


Happiness in Self-Destruction

by 0xycodone



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Addiction, Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Borderline Personality Disorder, Depression, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, First Time, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Rape/Non-con Elements, Recovery, Rehabilitation, Religion, Religious Conflict, Religious Content, Self-Harm, Sexual Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-08-31 10:00:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 27,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8573959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0xycodone/pseuds/0xycodone
Summary: Tyler Joseph is a 17-year-old mentally ill drug addict who has been a patient at New Hope House for the past 6 months, longer than any other patient in the adolescent wing. Tyler struggles with gaining control over his addiction and separating his disorder from his own thoughts, but with the arrival and help of his new roommate, maybe Tyler can get through his stay at NHH.An incredibly triggering, realistic AU in which Tyler and Josh are roommates in a rehab and try to help each other through their struggles. Please read this with care if you are triggered by anything in the tags.





	1. I

“6 AM vitals! Let’s go, Joseph!” A resounding voice comes from the other side of the heavy wooden door. Tyler’s eyes snap open immediately, glaring up at the white ceiling above him. “If you’re not out here in five, I’m marking you down as missed morning vitals.” The voice calls again, this time with a threatening edge to it. Rolling his eyes and letting out a sigh, Tyler begrudgingly sits up in his bed. If there’s one thing he hates, it’s 6 AM vitals. Especially on nights he spends tossing and turning in his bed, thoughts racing, eyelids only dropping closed at 4 AM from sheer exhaustion.

“Five, four, thr-,” the nurse begins to count out impatiently, tapping her foot against the floor.

“I’m coming, for Christ’s sake!” Tyler yells back through gritted teeth, cutting the nurse on the other side of his door off. After slipping a shirt on over his head, Tyler pulls the door open with much more force than necessary.

“Well, good morning to you too, Joseph.” The nurse greets him with a sickeningly sweet smile. Tyler honestly doesn’t mind most of the MHA’s and nurses here, but this one, well she’s a different story. Every morning, Lori, the nurse with warm brown eyes and the complexion to match, always with a neat little bun on top of her head, wakes Tyler up at 6 AM for vitals. While Tyler understands this is just part of her job, he can’t help but hold a grudge. And so, for the past six months, Tyler has been here, he has self-proclaimed Lori his arch nemesis.

“Get a move on,” Lori says patting Tyler’s arm lightly. He follows the nurse down the hallway with a scowl, the feeling of his bare feet against the cold floor just serving to wake Tyler up even more. They stop at the main desk in the day room. Tyler takes his seat in the now familiar chair that sits beside the main desk. The nurse wheels the blood pressure machine over to the seat, wrapping the cuff around Tyler’s bicep. The machine comes to life with a series of beeps and then Tyler can feel the pressure on his arm of the cuff inflating. You’d think after six months of this, he’d be used to the sensation. But he still hates it just like he did on day one.

“Open.” Tyler doesn’t have to think twice, he lets his mouth fall open as Lori sticks a thermometer under his tongue. Tyler can feel his heavy eyelids start to flutter closed and his head slowly drops down to his chest as sleep takes over again, clouding his vision and warming his limbs. This earns him a smack to the back of the head and a glare from Lori. “You know the drill, kid. You're almost done and then you can go back to bed till breakfast at 8.”

“That would just be all fine and dandy, except how many times have I told you, Lori, I have trouble sleeping!” He snaps back after she finally removes the thermometer from his mouth, quickly jotting down the numbers on her chart.

“Don't raise your voice at me, Joseph. You know better than that by now.” The nurse shakes her head at him and then moves to remove the blood pressure cuff when it begins beeping and deflating. “127 over 63, not bad. See? You're all done. Now go back to bed.” Tyler scoffs at her attempt to order him around, but stands up and heads back to his room anyway.

“Oh and Joseph, one more thing.” She calls after him and Tyler rolls his eyes so hard he's momentarily concerned they'll get stuck. “Roger won't be in for your morning meeting. He’s got a new patient to attend to. Try and be on your best behavior for the new kid, would you?”

“I'm always on my best behavior, Lori. I have no idea what you're referring to.” Tyler quips turning away from the nurse once again to walk back to his room.

He doesn't allow himself to actually think about what Lori said until he's back in his bed, blankets pulled up to his chin. Roger is Tyler’s counselor. Every patient in New Hope House is assigned a personal counselor with whom they’re supposed to meet with twice a week. His counseling sessions with Roger have come to be one of the few things Tyler doesn't mind about NHH. Their sessions together are rarely too in depth and sometimes Roger lets Tyler use his laptop to listen to music or watch YouTube videos.

Tyler runs a hand through his short, messy black hair and lets out a groan when he realizes what this news means. Firstly, Tyler will have to attend morning meeting with everyone else since he won't be seeing Roger. Secondly, there's a new kid. As if there weren't enough patients around here? And with a wave of panic rushing through him, he also realizes the odds of this kid becoming his roommate are too great. No one in the adolescent wing of NHH is supposed to have their own room. Fortunately, there's an odd number of patients currently, which meant Tyler was free to have his own room. Until now.

Tyler already hates the new kid.

 

 


	2. II

It was already a quarter past 8, which means Tyler is late for breakfast. Again. He stares up at the ceiling, eyes slightly glazed over as he considers skipping breakfast entirely. He knows this will count against him in his point log but he can't be too bothered to care. He shifts in his bed, rolling onto his side and curling in on himself. Of the six months Tyler has been here, he spends the majority of his time in this exact position. Maybe that's why he was still here when everyone else left in two to three months.

 It's not that he still wants to be here, he'd do anything to go home. It's just that for all the groups he's sat in, all the NA meetings, even all his sessions with Roger - well, none of it has seemed to change anything in his head. He still feels exactly the same as the day he arrived on NHH’s doorstep, albeit a lot less high. He's not even sure what he's supposed to be getting out of this whole experience. Does everyone really think it's that simple to change? Just a few groups and some subpar therapy and you're on your way to a healthy life? Not for Tyler. Oh no, he's a whole hell of a lot more screwed up than that.

Another knock on Tyler’s door cuts through his reverie. “Dude, you missed breakfast. Anthony is pissed.” He recognizes the voice as soon as he hears it. Another boy in his wing, Ryan. Tall, skinny, and mildly full of himself Ryan Ross.

Shrugging his blankets off and sighing deeply, Tyler gets out of his bed and makes his way over to the door. This time he doesn't pull the door open so harshly. “Roger’s busy so I'm coming to morning group.” He informs Ryan with an acerbic look.

 “Oh cool, man. Get dressed, I'll save you a spot in the day room.” Ryan flashes Tyler a friendly smile and Tyler nods as a token of gratitude before shutting the door and walking back into his room. He rummages through some clothes he thinks might be clean and throws on the first pair of jeans he can find. With one last longing look at his room (seriously, screw that new kid for infringing on Tyler’s privacy), he saunters out into the hallway, shutting his door behind him.

 When Tyler gets to the day room, he's relieved to see Ryan has saved him a spot. He plops down in the seat next to the lanky boy and takes the battered black and white journal that reads “Tyler R Joseph,” out of the pile Ryan hands him. He turns and passes the remaining pile onto the next person before opening his own journal and flipping through the pages till he finds a clean one.

 “I always forget about journals.” Tyler huffs, sitting back in his chair and waiting for the MHA to arrive and lead the group.

 “That's because you never show up to group.” Ryan laughs, shaking his head.

 “Can you blame me? I don't know how you sit through them. I'd rather claw my own eyes out.” Okay, maybe that's a little dramatic. But Tyler really, really hates group.

 “Alright everyone, please sit down. Let's get started, we're already running late!”

 Tyler groans a little too loudly. He just doesn’t think his luck can get any worse today. As if it’s not bad enough that he has to wake up at 6 AM every morning to Lori, he missed out on breakfast, is being forced to sit through morning group, is probably going to have a roommate by the end of the day, and now of course, who else would lead the group today but his favorite person?

 “Oh, would you look at who decided to show up today. To what do we owe the pleasure, Joseph?” Anthony tries to hide his grimace with an amused smirk. Anthony is easily Tyler’s least favorite MHA. MHA’s (Mental Health Aides) are the people who are in charge of leading groups, activities, NA/AA meetings, etc. and most of them are just fine. But Anthony is still bitter over the basketball game Tyler showed him up in four months ago during their outdoor hour.

 “Roger’s busy, so I’m here...trust me, I wouldn’t be if I didn’t have to be,” Tyler mutters the last part under his breath, sinking further into his chair and trying to escape Anthony’s glare.

 Anthony turns away from Tyler in favor of jumping into his opening statements for the group. Tyler locks his gaze on the gray-blue wall across from him, his vision going blurry as he feels himself slowly start to zone out Anthony’s voice. He can feel the tension building up behind his eyes as everything slips out of focus, dissociation taking over. Tyler spends the first half of group, staring blankly at the wall, his thoughts racing and the room around him ceasing to exist. It’s only when he sees a flash of pink in his peripheral vision that he’s able to snap out of it. He blinks a few times and shakes his head, trying to gain his full consciousness back.

 His eyes snap back up to the wall he’s been staring at for over 20 minutes when he sees the flash of pink again. This time he sees that the pink is actually attached to a person. He watches as Roger leads a guy with hair that looks like pink cotton candy into the main office and shuts the large glass door behind them. He spends the remaining 10 minutes of group watching the glass door, trying to catch another glimpse of pink.

 *

At the end of morning group, everyone is assigned a goal. Tyler’s goal for the day is to write a letter to himself. When group is dismissed, everyone is supposed to begin working on their goals or their daily point log and do things like clean up their rooms. Tyler decides to just lay in his bed again, hiding under his blankets instead. He lets his eyes flutter closed momentarily, a flash of cotton candy pink behind his eyelids. He thinks back to the kid he saw trailing after Roger like a lost puppy. Tyler had caught a few more glimpses of the kid, noting his stretched ears and nose ring that Lori would be having him remove later today. Tyler decides that if he’s going to be forced to have a roommate, at least the kid looks like he’s got personality.

 *

 “Tyler. Tyler, get up. Tyler!”

 “I swear to God, this better be important,” Tyler grumbled, rolling over onto his side to see Roger staring at him with a smile almost too wide for his face. He briefly wonders why no one will let him sleep in this place, blinking his bloodshot eyes at Roger.

 “I need you to get up. I’ve got someone for you to meet.” Tyler feels Roger wrap his fingers around his upper arm and tug him out of his bed enthusiastically. Tyler shuffles behind the older man with an exaggerated whine, sluggishly following his counselor up to the main office. Roger opens the glass door and ushers Tyler in, following suit and closing the door behind them.

 When Tyler finally glances up from the floor, he realizes the boy with cotton candy hair is sitting uncertainly in front of him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, sorry if this is sucking. Tyler's character is actually heavily based on myself and my real life experiences, so this story is pretty close to my heart. I hope you guys are enjoying this.


	3. III

“Tyler, this is Josh Dun. He’s a new patient here and he’s going to be your roommate from now on. So I’d like it if you’d take him under your wing and show him around a bit.” Roger informs him, glancing between the two boys with a smile. 

“Take him…under my wing...right. Roger, I barely even leave my bed.” Tyler argues in disbelief. Why should he have to show the kid around? The MHA’s are lucky if Tyler himself even shows up for meals.

“I know, Ty. We’ve talked about you trying step outside of your comfort zone, and well, I think this is a great opportunity for you to do so.” Roger isn’t backing down and Tyler can feel panic bubbling up in his chest, rising into his throat like bile. There’s no way, no way in Hell that Tyler is going to be responsible for the new kid and he lets Roger know exactly that.

Their arguing is interrupted by a nearly inaudible sound. Both Roger and Tyler quickly turn their gaze to meet Josh’s. Josh is still sitting across from them sheepishly, “Um, it’s okay, Roger. I think uh...I think I can figure things out for myself. No worries, uh...Tyler, was it?”

Josh speaks so quietly Tyler has to strain his ears to hear him. He nods toward the other boy, “Yeah, I’m Tyler.” Josh gives him a small, meek smile in response and Tyler vaguely wonders what a real smile looks like on him. He almost feels bad for arguing right in front of the kid about having to show him around. It’s no wonder Tyler has no friends here.

“Josh, that’s very kind of you to let Tyler off the hook there. However, I’m afraid Tyler isn’t going to have a say in this one.” Roger cuts in, shooting Tyler his best foreboding look. Tyler chews on his bottom lip, pulling the chapped skin off in layers and refuses to look at Roger, averting his gaze to his Vans instead. “Now that we’ve settled that,” Roger continues before Tyler gets the chance to put his two cents in, “Tyler, why don’t you take Josh to your room first. Then you can bring him down to lunch with you. I look forward to seeing you both there.” The older man smiles at them both once more before turning on his heel and opening the glass door.

Tyler is the first one out the door, shoulders slouched and feet dragging against the carpet of the office. He stands in the hallway and waits for Josh to catch up and then Roger closes the office door again. With Josh now following, Tyler leads the way back to their (that’s gonna take some getting used to) room.

“Hey, listen I’m really sorry you have to waste your day babysitting me.” Tyler glances back at the other boy, brown eyes locking with his before quickly looking away.

“It’s no problem, man.” Is all Tyler says, wrapping his hand around the door handle to their room. He opens the door wide enough for Josh to squeeze in past him and then shuts the door once he steps in behind the pink-haired boy. “So this is it. Not really much to show. Your beds over there.” He tells Josh, motioning to the bed on the right side of the room. Josh just nods and walks over to the bed, sitting on the edge of it and slightly bouncing up and down on it. Tyler chuckles, “Not a hotel, dude. But for a rehab, the beds could be worse.” He shrugs sitting on the edge of his own bed.

“I’ve slept on worse,” Josh mumbled, laying back on the bed and folding his arms behind his head.

They fall into a comfortable silence and Tyler can feel his vision begin to blur again, dissociation setting in, his surroundings melting away, except for the patch of pink hair Tyler has locked his gaze on. Minutes pass before either of them break the silence, until finally Tyler can vaguely make out Josh’s voice asking him something. It takes Tyler a minute to snap out of his daze, shaking his head and blinking a few times to get his vision to readjust. “Sorry, what did you say?” He asks while rubbing at his eyes.

“How long have you been here?” Josh repeats glancing at Tyler before staring back up at the ceiling.

“Oh, uh like 6 months.”

“6 months! What? I thought this was like a 60-day program?” Josh sits up in his bed, panic was written all over his features.

Tyler can’t help but smirk at Josh’s fear. “Yeah, for normal patients. And then there are idiots like me.”

“Wow, dude. I’m sorry. That’s a really long time. I don’t mean to pry, I-I just - that’s a long time.”

“I have trouble doing what I’m supposed to,” Tyler explains with a shrug. Josh just nods like he understands that and Tyler is a little relieved he doesn’t have to explain further. Everyone always just assumes that Tyler must be really messed up to be here nearly three times as long as most people. Maybe they’re not wrong.

Tyler glances up at the clock in the corner of the room. He gets up from his bed, stretching his arms and back with a satisfying pop, and then he turns to Josh. “C’mon, lunch.”

*

Tyler doesn’t eat much, just waits for Josh to finish and chews on the inside of his cheek before they line up in the hallway with all the other patients. Josh shoots Tyler a questioning look as he follows Tyler’s lead and stands next to his roommate, back against the wall. “Contraband check,” Tyler whispers into Josh’s ear and watches as Linda, another MHA, makes her way down the line patting down each patient and checking pockets.

“Nice to see your face, Ty. Missed you at yesterday’s lunch and dinner.” She greets him with a smile, hands lightly patting down his sides and diving into his empty pockets.

“Yeah, sorry. I wasn’t feeling great.” Tyler catches Josh’s gaze out of the corner of his eye. He looks hesitant when Linda moves onto him, unsure of what to do. “Linda, this is Josh. He’s my new roommate.” Tyler hastily introduces them before Linda starts patting Josh down, hoping it makes him feel a little more at ease.

“Well hello, Josh! Nice to meet you. I’m Linda, one of your MHA’s. Just hold your arms out to your sides, dear. Relax, that’s it.” She coaxes him, giving him a grateful smile when he raises his arms.

When Linda’s done checking everyone, they walk back to their wing in a single-file line, Josh sticking behind Tyler the entire time. Once they get back into their wing, Tyler leads Josh back to their room. “I can’t believe they search us for plastic knives and forks from the cafeteria.” Josh laughs a little in disbelief and gets back into his spot on his bed.

“You get pretty used to it. Not really sure what kind of an idiot attempts anything with plastic utensils, but I don’t underestimate idiocy.” Tyler picks up his black and white journal and a pen before settling back on his bed.

“What’s that?” Josh asks watching Tyler’s hands as he leafs through the pages in his journal in search of a clean one again.

“We get these at our morning group. They give you a goal you’re supposed to complete throughout the day, write it in here, and then turn it in at the night meeting.” Tyler explains chewing on the cap of his pen while he considers what to write for his goal.

“Oh, I guess that makes sense. What’s your goal?”

“I have to write a letter to myself.”

“That sounds interesting. I’ll uh, leave you to it then. I think I’m gonna try and catch up on some sleep.” Josh decides and pulls his blankets up over him. Tyler nods and sets out to work while Josh shifts trying to find a comfortable position.

It’s not long before Josh has fallen asleep and Tyler is tugging at his hair with frustration. He tries hard to focus on the paper in front of him, but he finds it incredibly difficult with Josh softly snoring across the room. Tyler finds himself spending more time watching Josh’s chest rise and fall rhythmically, rather than writing out an entire letter to himself. Tyler decides to just write down all the thoughts swirling around his head instead, thinks this makes for a more interesting letter for him to look back on. He tears his gaze away from Josh, placing the tip of his pen to paper, a small dot of black ink staining it.

_ Bathed in hues of soft blue that washes everything out, removes emotion, strips surroundings bare. _

He glances at the window, peering at the sunset through the slither of curtains that had been moved aside. He would do almost anything to be able to sit outside and watch the sunset again. But instead of witnessing it, the most he can experience is the slightly gloomy blue tint that washes over everything. He wonders when his days became so painfully mediocre that this was something he almost looked forward to.

_ It’s all meaningless. It’s all monotonous. _

Tyler lets his eyes close momentarily as his mind is suddenly filled with intrusive thoughts. He keeps his eyes closed tightly and tries to listen to Josh’s even breathing, but he can only hear the whispers in his ear reminding him that he’s a failure, a disappointment, that he’s better off dead.

_ Indecipherable thoughts. Overwhelming my brain, wrapping and squeezing. _

He can feel a burning in his chest, climbing up his throat and choking him. His grip on his pen tightens till his knuckles turn white, tears threatening to spill.

_ Panic welling up in my throat. Swallowing anxiety, twisting intestines. _

_ Hollowed out, empty hole. Caved in chest. Pain so deep it reverberates throughout my ribcage.  _

_ Skin so thin, it shreds. Stretched tight over weakened bones, like splinters poking through. _

_ Burning spreading throughout and sinking into my bones. _

Tyler tries his hardest to keep the sobs racking his body mostly silent. He doesn’t think Josh will appreciate being woken up to his shitty roommate crying like a child. But he can feel every sob ripping his chest apart, tearing out of his throat.

_ Stop breathing. Stop breathing. _

He drops his pen after he writes the last set of thoughts that pop into his head, clapping his hands over his mouth instead. His body shakes and his head won’t stop aching, his vision fading quickly. He lays down on his side, curling in on himself, and he stares at the bed across from him. He watches Josh’s chest rise and fall again until he falls asleep too.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's commented already and I'm so happy you guys are taking well to the story!! I hope you guys liked this chapter. I feel like it gives you a better look at what's going on in Tyler's head and of course, more Josh!


	4. IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains a somewhat graphic drug-related scene, so if this is triggering to you, please either read with caution or skip this chapter altogether. I'd be happy to summarize it for you if you message me! I hope you all like it otherwise. And thank you again for the comments!!

“What you got for me, Ty?” 

Tyler rolls his eyes subtly, bending his head to meet his open palm. He opens his mouth as wide as he can and uses his index finger to fish out the small, blue pill stuck to the inside of his cheek. The pill falls into the palm of his hand, still intact. He smirks, satisfied at how good he’s gotten at this. Tyler sticks his palm out further, offering the boy standing opposite him the small pill.

“Deal,” Pete grins and quickly snatches the pill from Tyler’s grasp. Tyler catches Josh’s gaze from the corner of his eye, can see his roommate watching him warily. Pete drops a bright orange capsule into Tyler’s hand, tiny white beads peeking through one-half of the capsule.

“You know I hate this extended release bullshit, man.” Tyler sighs but quickly pockets the capsule despite himself.

“Best I can do, dude. I asked for the other shit, but Dr. Ye says this is better for me.” Pete shrugs and gives Tyler a defeated frown. Tyler doesn’t care to stand around and chit chat with the other boy, so instead he turns without another word and practically runs back to his room, a sudden flash of enthusiasm mingling with his blood. This was always Tyler’s favorite part of the day. When he was first admitted to NHH, Tyler suffered through withdrawal just like everyone else, with the help of Suboxone.

It didn’t take long for him to learn how things worked around here, though. Nearly every patient was required to take some sort of medication according to their treatment plan. For Tyler, he was prescribed Xanax for his anxiety, Seroquel for his impulsivity and psychosis, and Lexapro as an antidepressant. Unfortunately for him, the only medication with any real trading value was his Xanax. So every morning when Tyler went in for his meds, he would swallow his pills one at a time. Always telling the nurse he just had a hard time swallowing more than one. He always left the Xanax last. By the time he put the blue pill in his mouth, he had swallowed every last drop of saliva in his mouth and made sure the inside of his cheek was dry enough for the pill to stay pocketed there without dissolving. When the nurse was satisfied he had taken his meds, he would go and find Pete or Brendon as fast as possible.

Pete and Brendon were both prescribed Adderall for their ADHD, but whereas Tyler couldn’t stand to take his Xanax because it made him feel like a zombie, Pete and Brendon couldn’t stomach Adderall for the same reason. It was a simple trade, everyone was happy, and Tyler wouldn’t spend the rest of his day in an exhausted haze, attempting to piece his thoughts together. Adderall gave Tyler a sense of clarity, even if his thoughts were constantly racing and jumping from one topic to another. At least he could actually follow his train of thought and feel like a productive human being, even if his jaw would stiffen and lock up from grinding his teeth incessantly. Adderall felt  like a cold splash of water over parched, cracked skin; like a lighter being held to his blood, warming it as it rushed through his veins.

Tyler makes sure to close the door behind him and rushes over to his dresser, pulling open the first drawer and rifling through poorly folded clothing. He finds a pair of torn, faded black jeans, shoving uncoordinated fingers into the smallest pocket and retrieving another orange capsule he had stashed earlier in the week. He tosses his clothes back into the drawer and shuts it, making a beeline for the door ajar leading to their small attached bathroom. He places a piece of blank paper, the two orange capsules, and a black lighter he stole from the adult wing months ago, down on the countertop. He sets to work with slightly trembling hands, folding one edge of the paper around one capsule at a time, careful to keep it all remaining flat against the countertop. Tyler breaks the orange capsule open, the small beads falling out of the split down the middle and onto the paper. He repeats the process with the second capsule before tossing the outer shells in the toilet and flushing. Picking up the black lighter, he starts to grind the small beads till they form a fine, off-white powder across the piece of paper.

It takes him a good five minutes before he’s satisfied with the mound of fine powder in front of him. He uses the lighter to push the powder into a few neat little lines and then rips off a piece of the blank paper, rolling it up tightly between his thumbs and index fingers. Just as Tyler leans over the countertop, rolled up paper pressed to one nostril, index finger holding the other closed, he hears the door creak open and quickly whips around, eyes wide and mouth suddenly went dry.

“What are you doing?” Tyler feels his heart pounding in his throat and he takes a few deep breaths at the sight of his pink-haired roommate standing in the doorway.

“Holy shit, dude. You nearly gave me a heart attack. I thought you were Lori or Anthony or something.” He cards his hands through his short hair, tugging lightly at the ends and wills himself to relax. If one of the MHA’s or nurses had found him doing this, all hopes of getting out of here anytime soon would be completely lost.

“What is that?” Josh asks gesturing to the lines of powder behind Tyler.

“Just an Addy, man. Got it from Pete.” Tyler explains with a shrug. He turns back to his neat little lines, pressing the rolled up paper to his nose once again. This time he inhales deeply, watching as the powder vanishes as he moves down the line gracefully. He feels the powder hit the back of his throat and can immediately feel it becoming sore, the taste of chemicals staining his tongue and the roof of his mouth. When he’s finally done he places the rolled up paper down on the counter, trying but failing to suppress the triumphant grin on his face. Tyler turns around to look at Josh but when he sees his roommate’s expression, the euphoria he can feel building in his core and filling his veins quickly dissipates.

Josh’s eyes are glazed over with what Tyler can only interpret as pity when he meets his gaze. “Do you...do you like do that a lot?”

Tyler sucks on his bottom lip subconsciously, tearing at the chapped skin there with his teeth. His stomach churns and he rubs a tense hand over the back of his neck. “Not like always. Just some days, I guess.” Tyler practically whispers, staring down at his feet. Why is Tyler feeling any sort of guilt at this? They’re all addicts here, right? Shouldn’t Josh be a little more understanding? He’s only known the guy a few days. Tyler can still feel the euphoria building in him, clouding his thoughts, embracing him but now spiked with anger and a brutal reminder of his low self-esteem.

“Maybe you should try and go without it, you know? Maybe you’ll get out of here sooner.” Josh doesn’t even attempt to meet Tyler’s eyes this time. He just shakes his head with an air of faint disappointment and walks away from Tyler before he can even reply.

Tyler spends the rest of his day in bed anyway, attempting to piece his thoughts together, jaw stiffening painfully as he relentlessly grinds his teeth, the skin around his fingernails raw from picking at it.

 

 


	5. V

“It's been a week since I've seen you, Ty. How ya feeling?” Tyler glances up at the older man, a friendly smile stretched over wrinkled, aged skin, thinning gray hair, and twinkling blue eyes staring back at him. Waiting patiently for a response, hopeful almost. Tyler slouches back against his seat and gives a dismissive shrug. He never knows how to answer that question, never really knows how he feels. Apart from the overwhelming spikes of sadness and pain, Tyler thinks everything else is just felt on the surface; dull and never deep enough to make any actual impact. Tyler isn't even sure what is reality and what's just in his head most of the time.

“Are you getting along well with Josh?” This question rips Tyler from his thought process and a frown settles on his face. Truth be told, Josh had been avoiding (or at least that’s how it seemed to Tyler) him since the day he walked in on him in their bathroom. He no longer occupied the space next to Tyler in groups, favoring the seat next to a girl with bright red hair, porcelain skin, and an easygoing smile instead. And when Tyler would spend the entire group sneaking inquiring glances at Josh, the pink-haired boy would pointedly avoid meeting his questioning brown eyes. The only time Tyler really saw his roommate was when everyone was sent back to their rooms for the night when Josh had no choice but to sit in the same room as Tyler. But even then, they rarely spoke to each other.

“I think he hates me,” Tyler replies, picking at the raw skin around his nail beds with trembling hands. Truthfully, he didn’t think this would bother him nearly as much as it does. But Tyler would be lying if he said he hadn’t spent 3 AM every night of the last week with his head filled with thoughts of messy pink hair, perfect white teeth hidden beneath soft pink lips, the look of disappointment in brown eyes whenever they landed on Tyler, and the fire it sparked in his lungs, spreading throughout his sternum and into his stomach whenever he thought too hard about all of it.

On the nights Tyler’s brain refused to settle and allow sleep to envelop him, he used to spend hours watching the silhouette of the sunrise through the thin off-white curtains across from the foot of his bed. On these nights, Tyler now spent the early morning hours glancing between the insipid white ceiling hanging dauntingly above him, to his roommate sleeping across the room from him. Soft snoring filling the room like an unintended lullaby, soft pink cheeks, lips slightly parted. Somehow it was important than the sunrise.

“Why would he hate you? Linda told me you two were getting along fine.” Roger’s kind eyes flash with concern, his smile fading to a look of curiosity.

“I fuck up everything.” Tyler doesn’t mean it in a self-pitying kind of way. He’s speaking factually, he really does fuck up everything he touches. He never even got the chance to touch Josh and somehow still ruined any foundation of friendship they had.

“You’re being hard on yourself, Ty. You’re a brilliant kid, you’ve just been granted some unfortunate, hard circumstances. Can you tell me why you think Joshua hates you...in a little more detail?” The counselor pauses, trying to word the question in a way he thinks can actually milk answers out of Tyler. Roger knows all too well that if he addresses a topic the wrong way, Tyler won’t even acknowledge a question has been asked, so he treads lightly.

Tyler bites hard at the corner of his lip, the sharp taste of copper staining the tip of his tongue. He savors the taste for a moment before he attempts to rifle through his racing thoughts to come up with the reply Roger is looking for. “I’m not...I’m not getting any better. I’m just a worthless addict, hopeless. A junkie with brain rot,” his voice begins to waver, hands trembling so hard he has to hold onto the wooden armrests of his chair till his knuckles turn white. “But Josh...Josh is like, well, he’s like all warmth. Like the sun when it’s rays sink into your skin and you can feel it warming you from the inside out. He’s all heartfelt smiles and he listens at group, and he cares...and...and there’s hope for him. He’ll get better.” Tyler runs a shaking hand over his face, letting his nails trail lightly over his skin, just enough to ground him to reality for a second. “Humans can’t even t-touch or...or look at the sun for very long.” Tyler can feel tears stinging the back of his eyes, blurring his vision as they well up threatening to spill over.

Roger is speechless, all of Tyler’s words swirling around in his head. Tyler is rubbing furiously at his face, trying to dry the tears that continue to fall, staining his cheeks. “Ty...you can’t think that about yourself. You are getting better. When you first came here, you would never have been able to say all of that. Not everyone’s recovery is the same, Tyler. You know that - we’ve discussed it before. You have gone through so, so much but you continue to get up every day and try your hardest. Tyler, that’s not being hopeless or worthless. Has...Tyler, has _he_ been around?”

Roger doesn’t have to specify who he’s talking about, Tyler already knows and he feels like he’s been punched in the chest at the mention of _him_. Tyler sucks in a deep breath, trying to soothe his frayed nerves before they jump into this conversation. He gives a timid nod and scrubs his hands over his head, scraping his nails over skin and leaving a slight sobering sting in their wake.

“What does Blurryface think about Josh?” The question seems innocent, but inside Tyler’s head, it’s a catalyst. His heart leaps into his throat, making it hard to breathe or swallow the sudden taste of bile rising in his sore throat. He can feel his eyes start to glaze over, losing their focus as his brain seemingly shuts off and he’s left sitting across from his counselor feeling completely numb and detached from his own body.

The older man’s attention snaps to the door behind his patient when he hears a knock and then Lori is poking her head through. “Sorry to interrupt but Brendon has been out here for a good ten minutes, Rog.” She informs him apologetically. Roger glances up at the clock and realizes he and Tyler have gone well over their meeting time. He scrambles to get his papers in order, snapping the folder open in his hands shut and slipping it onto his desk.

“I’m so sorry, we must have lost track of time. Lori, would you let Brendon know I’ll be done in a second?” She nods at him and leaves the room with a quick probing glance at the back of Tyler’s head.

“Tyler, I'm so sorry to cut this short, buddy. I didn't realize we went over our time, totally my fault. Why don't we get together tomorrow though?” Roger’s warm, friendly smile is back and his blue eyes twinkle at Tyler.

Tyler only nods and stands from his chair, dragging his feet to the door of the office. He doesn't even stop or look back when Roger tries to say bye and wishes him a good rest of his day. Tyler is still numb when he wanders back to his room, muscle memory taking over for his lack of actual brain activity. When he finally gets back inside his room, he doesn't even make it to his bed, he feels his knees give out the second he shuts the door behind him, falling to the carpeted floor. He lays down on his side, curling his knees to his chest.

That's where Josh finds Tyler two hours later after he wanders in after lunch. “Oh my god, Tyler!” He yells, shock pouring into his bloodstream. He runs to the broken boy lying in the center of their room. He scrambles to Tyler’s side, quickly pulling the other boy into his arms. Josh feels his heart sink and his stomach churn when his eyes spot the bloodied crescent shaped nail marks decorating nearly every inch of his roommate’s hands and arms. He notes the bruised skin indented with teeth marks as he cradles one of Tyler’s limp arms, gingerly running his fingertips over the broken skin there.

“What did you do to yourself?” Josh’s voice is so heavy with concern and a tinge of fear that it actually helps to bring Tyler back to reality. He blinks his bloodshot eyes up at Josh, his head lying against the other boy’s chest, strong arms wrapped around him. Tyler can feel the freezing blood in his veins begin to warm and flow throughout his body as he listens to Josh’s racing heartbeat beneath his chest.

Tyler doesn't say a word when Josh helps him up, strong arms never leaving him for too long. He helps Tyler into his bed, a chord of panic struck in Tyler’s chest when Josh’s arms leave him. But it isn't long before Tyler can feel oxygen flowing into his aching lungs when Josh climbs into Tyler’s bed and wraps his arms around Tyler’s core, letting his head rest against the thin skin stretched over Tyler’s shoulder blades.

“Sleep, Ty.” It's a faint whisper, warm breath ghosting over Tyler’s cold, yearning skin. But Tyler’s brain obeys and he finally sleeps.


	6. VI

Tyler blinks his heavy eyes open at the feeling of warm fingertips dancing down his spine, tracing every vertebrae carefully through the thin cotton of his tee shirt. He turns slightly just enough to see the crooked smile on Josh’s face before the other boy ducks his head, hiding his expression shyly. But it doesn’t matter because that smile is already burning into Tyler’s memory, all straight white teeth and the perfect curve of full lips. 

“I was just gonna wake you up. Ryan said it’s time for dinner,” Josh tells Tyler, sitting up and stretching his arms till he hears his bones creak and then finally pop, the stiffness fading.

“I think I’m gonna skip dinner.” Tyler doesn’t remember the last time he didn’t skip dinner, but today definitely wasn’t going to be an exception. He and Josh must have fallen asleep for roughly three hours, and while Tyler does feel better from the much-needed sleep, his head is still pounding as his thoughts race and wrap around his brain stem.

“I’ll stay with you. I ate a ton at lunch.” Josh flashes Tyler a look that tells him any argument he thinks he can put up, will quickly be dismissed. So Tyler doesn’t even put up a fight, just nods and rubs at his eyes tiredly. The boys fall back into a comfortable silence, Josh’s fingertips finding their way back to Tyler’s frail skin. He touches them gingerly to the dried blood and raised, red skin of Tyler’s inner arm leaving a slight tingling in Tyler’s veins. Tyler lets his eyes flutter closed when Josh pulls Tyler’s hand into his own, tracing every crescent shaped tear in his skin.

“Why?” Josh’s voice is so soft when he asks that Tyler barely hears the question. But when he comprehends what Josh is asking, his eyes snap open and he stares blankly at the wall across from him. Josh runs his thumb over Tyler’s knuckles but his eyes never leave Tyler’s face, waiting tentatively for an answer he’s not sure he’ll ever get.

“I don’t want to exist anymore. And I needed a distraction.” Tyler sounds detached when he finally replies to Josh as if the words aren’t even his own. Like they came from someone else’s mouth or brain entirely, but they still cause a sharp ache in Josh’s chest. Josh moves to wrap himself around the smaller boy again; he wants to be the shell Tyler needs to shield himself from his cruel thoughts. He loops one arm over Tyler’s waist and rests his hand on the other boy’s sternum, spreading his fingers out over the spot where Tyler’s heart resides and pounds so hard that Josh can feel it reverberating in his fingertips.

“Tyler...I know that we don’t really know each other that well...I-I just got here and all. But that isn’t the point, you know? Tyler, please, just...just let me be your distraction, okay? You can tell me all the things in your head you don’t want to tell anyone else, I promise to always listen. I just...I can’t let you do this to yourself. I care, Ty.” Josh stammers, nervously chewing at his lip and stroking his fingers lightly over Tyler’s chest, willing both himself and the smaller boy to calm down.

_ “He doesn’t mean any of that. You’re pathetic and he can’t stand to see you crying over everything like a little bitch. He doesn’t care, no one does, and you know it. You’re a coward, can’t even kill your fucking self and get it over with.” _

Tyler grinds his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut at the harsh intrusive thoughts. He can feel his hands start to tremble again and he bites down hard on his lip, trying his hardest to steady his breathing and will the thoughts away. But it’s never any use, Blurryface is always there. Always mocking him in the back of his head, laughing at the pain that courses through his bloodstream, takes over his central nervous system. It’s that red-eyed, blurred out, malevolent version of himself that got him here in the first place. Blurryface was the embodiment of all the hatred, fear, sadness, and insecurity that lives inside the deepest tissues of Tyler’s organs. Always reminding Tyler of the harsh truths he desperately tried to avoid, whispering maliciously in his ears.

He doesn’t mean to but he lets out an embarrassing whimper when Josh leans over him to wipe away the tears spilling out of his glazed over eyes. “Talk to me, Ty. Please.” Josh practically begs at the sight of tears slipping down Tyler’s pink cheeks, bottom lip torn and bleeding, and his eyes shut tightly. Josh cups the other boy’s cheek, running his thumb soothingly over the flushed skin. “Tyler, look at me.”

_ "If you tell him, he’ll know how fucking crazy you are. Then he’ll never talk to you. Is that what you want? He’ll look at you with the disgust you deserve.” _

Blurryface’s sonorous voice fills every inch of Tyler’s mind; his cold, cruel laugh forcing a chill through Tyler’s bones. His cries turn into sobs that shake his whole body and shred at his vocal chords. Josh wraps his arms back around Tyler even tighter than before and buries his face in the crook of Tyler’s neck. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Shhh, no, it’s okay, Ty. You don’t ever have to tell me anything until you’re ready to. It’s okay, I promise. Look at me.” He coos to the smaller boy, placing soft kisses to the nape of his roommate’s neck. Tyler opens his bleary eyes and rolls onto his back to stare up at the pink-haired boy staring back at him, brown eyes filled with concern and leaking sadness.

“He won’t let me tell you.” Tyler’s voice sounds so weak and broken that he grimaces at himself and quickly looks away from Josh.

“You don’t have to tell me anything yet, it’s okay,” Josh assures him, he leans over him and runs his fingers through Tyler’s short, black hair. “I just wanna keep you safe,” he can feel his cheeks burn whenever he meets Tyler’s gaze. “Can I do that?” Tyler only nods in response and then timidly places his shaking hands on Josh’s sides, pulling his body down closer to Tyler’s so that he lies halfway on top of Tyler, his weight a comforting warmth . He wraps his slender, bruised arms around Josh’s back and Josh lays his head down on Tyler’s bony shoulder, sending a shudder through Tyler’s spine when Josh’s eyelashes ghost over the sensitive skin of his neck. Josh tilts his head and places another gentle kiss to Tyler’s neck, just under his earlobe.

They decide to skip their night groups and Josh tells himself that if this is the only way he can help Tyler, then he’s happy to keep his arms open for his roommate. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just needed some more Josh in this story tbh. Also I had to call out of work today because of food poisoning, so I figured why not write some more. Anyway, I hope you guys like it and my interpretation of Blurryface.


	7. VII

Josh taps his fingers anxiously against the wooden armrest at his side, watching impatiently as Roger wanders into the room and shuts the door behind him. The older man takes the seat across from Josh with a casual smile. “What can I do for you, Joshua?” It’s a simple question, really, but Josh just scratches at his pink hair uncertainly. There’s no question in his mind as to  _ what  _ he’s doing in the counselor’s office, he just doesn’t know how to go about addressing it. 

“It’s about Tyler.” Josh runs a hand through his messy curls, leaning forward in his chair, concerned brown eyes locking on jovial blue.

“Ah, I see. Well, let me stop you there then. You know I can’t discuss other patients with you.” Roger gives Josh his best apologetic look, but it only serves to irritate Josh even more, his skin prickling with tension, panic twisting around his intestines. .

“I’m scared for him and I don’t know how to help. But...but like, you have to tell me how. Okay?” He pleads, refusing to take no for an answer. He isn’t just going to sit back and passively watch his roommate fade away. He decided that the day he walked in and found Tyler in pieces on their bedroom floor. Josh hasn’t been able to take his eyes off him since. hasn’t been able to sleep without knowing Tyler was safe in his arms. Roger has to understand that, any human being would, right?

“Josh…” Roger leans back in his chair with a drawn out sigh, “Tyler is a very...well, he’s a very complex individual, as I’m sure you’ve learned. I think the best thing you can do for him is to just be a good friend. Listen to him when he wants to talk and don’t push him if he isn’t ready to.” Roger says this as if it’s the simplest thing in the world, like he’s giving advice on how to pick the best produce in the grocery store and not how to save the broken human being that is Josh’s roommate.

“I think we should talk a little about you first, Josh. Why don’t you tell me a little about what lead you to New Hope House?” Roger continues before Josh can get a single word in. He watches as the older man flicks through the manila folder in his hands, blue eyes scanning over the words sloppily written on the papers inside. Josh can feel his heart sink deep into his stomach at the thought of Roger just brushing Tyler off so easily, like if Tyler wasn’t sitting in front of the counselor, he didn’t even exist.

“I wanna talk about Tyler,” is all Josh can reply with. That is his reason for being in this office and he isn’t about to abandon his efforts that easily. Josh catches the flicker of disappointment in Roger’s eyes, but the older man hides it with a smile that slowly stretches over his face.

“Okay, we’ll start with Tyler.” Roger places the folder aside on his desk and folds his hands in his lap with another disaffected sigh. “What is it that’s scaring you?”

Josh frowns at the question, thoughts immediately swirling in his head, images of bloodied fingernails and teeth-shaped bruises decorating otherwise smooth, olive skin, that force his vision to go blurry around the edges. “I don’t want him to hurt himself again. I don’t want him t-to...to…” Josh cuts himself off, not able to form the words that haunt the recesses of his mind. He swallows thickly against the lump growing in his throat and stares down at the carpet beneath his feet.

“If you want to help Tyler, I think it would be helpful to see where he’s coming from. Josh, do you think  _ you  _ have ever felt the way Tyler does now? Why don’t you tell me about that?” This question abruptly forces Josh’s mind to go blank, his skin suddenly hot and uncomfortable, like he just wants to peel it away from his bones in strips. He gives Roger a meager nod in response but never lifts his eyes from the torn canvas of his shoes.

Roger continues to ask Josh questions for a few minutes, but Josh can’t discern any of the words falling from the older man’s lips. Everything around them is drowned out by the rush of blood in his ears, the painful erratic pounding in his chest, hard enough that Josh thinks his ribcage might crack. Josh can feel his throat tighten, he suddenly feels like he’s 10 years old again, paralyzed with fear wrapping it’s twisted arms around his small frame in a bone crushing embrace. He can practically feel the burning touch along his skin of calloused hands that belonged to the monster that snuck into his bed too often.

Josh tries hard to suck in deep breaths through his dry mouth, but the oxygen never quite reaches the yearning set of lungs in his chest. With one last shaky gasp, Josh is dropping to his knees and spilling all the contents of his stomach out and onto the carpet.

*

Tyler decides he can’t skip another meal, he knows that Linda, or even worse, Anthony, will become suspicious and report his absence to Roger. And that’s a headache Tyler just isn’t willing to deal with. So that’s how he finds himself sitting at a gray table in the cafeteria with a plate of french fries in front of him. He can feel Linda’s eyes practically burning into him, waiting restlessly for him to eat something. Tyler rolls his eyes and lifts a fry to his lips, biting off the end of it and dropping the rest of it back into his plate. It’s not that Tyler doesn’t want to eat, or that he doesn’t like to eat. He just doesn’t have an appetite anymore, not after getting clean. Not after the antidepressants and all the talking, all the introspective thoughts.

He stares forlornly down at his plate of fries, thinking fondly of his frequent trips to Taco Bell with his friends before he came to NHH. He would be lying if he said he didn’t miss some of his friends or the freedom that comes with being outside of an institution. More than anything else though, Tyler misses the rush of drugs in his veins, clouding his thoughts, filling the gaping hole inside of him.

“Ty, you alright? You barely touched your food, kiddo.” Tyler’s head snaps up at Linda’s soft, attentive tone. He glances back down at his plate, still almost completely full and sighs despondently as he quickly shoves a handful of fries into his mouth. Linda gives him an appreciative smile and pats him gingerly on the back. “You can go back to your room now if you want.” Tyler can feel the pity rolling off her in waves, but he’s willing to take what he can get. He scrambles to toss his plate of remaining cold fries in the trash and then heads out of the cafeteria and back to his wing.

Tyler plans on going straight into his room, but a now familiar flash of pink catches his eye. He turns away from the door handle and saunters toward the day room instead, his gaze never leaving that cotton candy pink.

“Josh?” Tyler sucks on his bottom lip anxiously, eyeing his roommate hunched over in his chair, head buried in his hands. When he gets no reply from Josh, he hesitantly steps closer and presses a gentle hand on the pink-haired boy’s shoulder. Josh immediately flinches away from Tyler’s outstretched palm, staring up at him startledly.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m sorry.” Tyler apologizes quietly, taking another step further back from the other boy.

“No, no, it’s okay. I didn’t hear you come in, Ty. I’m sorry,” Josh runs two tense hands over his face and shakes his head. “Actually...um, I was hoping I’d find you. Can you uh - can you sit down with me for a minute?”

Tyler is caught off guard by this sudden change in conversation, but he sits down in the seat next to Josh nonetheless, cautious not to startle the other boy again. “What’s up, man?”

Josh inhales deeply, closing his eyes briefly before answering, “I went and saw Roger today. We...h-he brought up some t-things,” Josh has to stop to compose himself when his voice starts to break and it takes every ounce of restraint Tyler has not to reach out and wrap his hand around Josh’s. He gives him an encouraging nod instead and waits patiently for his roommate to take a few deep breaths.

Josh swallows thickly against the burn of bile rising in his throat and continues apprehensively. “You know how I said I wanted you to be able to tell me like, all the stuff in your head?” Tyler nods with more conviction this time to show Josh he’s listening and he knows what he’s referring to. “Well I...I wanna be able t-to do the s-same with you, Ty.” Josh can feel the sting of hot tears welling up in his eyes and spilling over his flushed cheeks, but he chokes back his cries and continues on, “I wanna tell you the stuff in m-my head too. I t-think you’re the only one who...who w-will understand i-it.” He shuts his bleary eyes and cradles his head in his hands again, avoiding Tyler’s eyes.

Tyler doesn’t hesitate this time when he wraps an arm around Josh’s back and pulls him in closer. “Of course, of course you can tell me those things. I’ll always listen and I’ll understand, Josh.” Tyler doesn’t think it’s possible to pour anymore of his heart than he already has into these words, he just hopes Josh knows how sincere they are. “Tell me everything, tell me nothing, tell me whatever you want, Josh. I’ll always be here to hear anything you have to say.” He gives Josh’s shoulder a tender squeeze and Josh picks his head up, rubbing at his tear stained cheeks and flashing Tyler a small grateful smile.

“Can I tell you about it all tomorrow? I’m so tired.” Josh punctuates this with a wide yawn and Tyler chuckles lightly at him.

“Yeah, c’mon.” He wraps his hand around Josh’s, fingers briefly slipping between each others and intertwining. He leads Josh back to their room and this time they lay down in Josh’s bed, limbs all tangled up together, full lips and perfect white teeth resting against Tyler’s collarbone, pink hair brushing against his cheek. They hold onto each other like their lives depend on it and it doesn’t take long for Tyler’s personal favorite lullaby (Josh’s snoring) to fill the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really just wanted to add in a little more about Josh's background and character and this was the result. I hope you guys liked it! And seriously thank you guys so much for all the comments and kudos. It's lovely to have encouragement that makes you want to keep writing. <3


	8. VIII

The sun’s rays are weak, but they bleed in through the thin curtain and pour into the room, illuminating just enough so that Tyler can see the tips of pink hair against his collarbone. Nights are the hardest for Tyler, like once the sun burns out it takes any sense of self that still remains in him, with it. His mind wanders relentlessly with no boundaries and no distractions, that familiar malicious voice taking over and shredding any ounce of hope Tyler could have. That's why sleeping is often out of the question for Tyler. 

He thinks it must be around 5 AM with the way the sun is steadily rising and Lori hasn't come yelling at them to get up for vitals yet. He tries hard to focus on the sunlight peeking in or Josh’s calm, even breathing but the voice at the back of his head is whispering alluringly in Tyler’s ears; telling Tyler how nice it would be to dig into his own flesh and pull out his own tendons, how nice the warmth of blood would feel as it cascaded down his arms.

_ “Who would miss you, Tyler? Not your mom and dad, they have your siblings. Not your friends, they already forgot about you. Josh has only known you for a few weeks and he's probably already sick of your constant whining. Do them a favor, Tyler, just get it over with. It's not like you're gonna do anything with your life. You're useless.” _

Tyler squeezes his eyes shut tightly and shakes his head, trying desperately to dislodge the thoughts from his brain. He used to pray that the voice inside of him would go away, stop corrupting every thought he had, but after nearly three years of praying till his throat was hoarse, Tyler doesn’t think there’s anyone listening.

_ “There’s nothing for you here. You’re a failure. No one cares about you, Tyler. No one!”  _ The harsh words send a shot of panic straight through him. His chest feels hollow, the emptiness inside of him growing and threatening to swallow him whole.  _ “Do it, Tyler. Just fucking do it!”  _ Blurryface’s voice becomes stronger, more vehement as Tyler’s already frail identity wanes. He places a shaky hand over his face, pressing over closed eyelids so he can see explosions of yellow and black dots dance across his vision.  _ “DO IT! DO IT, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!”  _ Tyler can feel his throat becoming raw as he lets sobs pour out of him, shaking his entire body.

Josh immediately sits up in his bed, eyes still closed against the intruding sunlight but hands already stretched out and searching for Tyler. “What happened? What’s wrong?” He can feel his skin flush with panic, heart pounding in his chest. He wraps his arms around Tyler’s small frame and pulls the other boy onto his lap. “Tyler, it’s okay. Shhh, talk to me.” He strokes the hair at the nape of Tyler’s neck, trying hopelessly to get the other boy to calm down.

It takes a few minutes but with Josh’s help, Tyler is able to dry his eyes and will his body to stop trembling. He lets his head rest on Josh’s shoulder, forehead pressed against the sensitive skin at the crook of Josh’s neck. He swallows hard and reaches for his roommate’s hand, pulling it gently into his grasp, letting the pad of his thumb skim over Josh’s knuckles before tangling their fingers together. They sit like this for a few minutes, Tyler soaking up the silence in his head.

“His name is Blurryface.”

_ “Don’t you fucking dare tell him!”  _ Blurryface screams in Tyler’s head, pounding against the walls of his cranium, red eyes seething with anger. He lets his eyes flutter shut once more, grinding his teeth and pushing himself to go on. Josh doesn’t ask who Blurryface is or what Tyler is referring to, just sits patiently for the other boy to continue when he’s ready to.

“P-please don’t j-judge me or anything.”

“Tyler, no matter what you could possibly tell me, it’s not going to make me feel or think about you any differently. I really, really care about you, Ty,” Josh cuts him off with a meaningful look, his arms squeezing Tyler even tighter at the sounds of the boy’s broken voice.

Tyler swallows the anxiety rising in his throat and nods his head before he continues on. “He’s like...l-like this being in m-my head.” He motions to his head with a downcast look. “He’s like um...if - if all of my fears and insecurities and just - just all my bad thoughts and the darkness inside of me, if it had a physical form, it would be Blurryface.” He explains, distracting himself from Blurryface’s livid screaming by studying Josh’s fingers, smooth fingertips running over calloused ones.

Josh is at a loss for words. He wants to ask Tyler a million questions about this being in his head, but he doesn’t want to push him and have Tyler shut him out completely. He licks his lips pensively and leans in to place a hesitant kiss to Tyler’s forehead. “Was he there tonight? In your um...in your head, I mean?” He scratches at his pink hair and tries hard to hide his uncertainty.

Tyler gives an almost imperceptible nod in response and then sucks in a deep breath, exhaling slowly. “He’s always there. B-but...he gets a lot more uh, vocal at night.”

“What was he telling you tonight?” Josh isn’t sure if this question is taking it too far, but he wants to help Tyler more than anything else in the world at the moment and he has no idea how to do that if he has no idea what’s going on in the other boy’s head.

Tyler can feel his throat tighten, the pressure on his chest nearly crushing his lungs. “He told me to kill myself because no one cares about me and I’m useless.” He states with a blank expression. He doesn’t want Josh to feel pity for him, he doesn’t want to see the sympathy in his eyes when he looks at him.

But he never does, because instead he sees the growing fear in Josh’s eyes and the sudden outpouring of warmth in them when he meets Tyler’s gaze. Josh’s heart sinks deep into the pit of his stomach when Tyler’s words meet his ears. He pulls Tyler into a tight embrace, enveloping the boy fully in his arms. He nuzzles against Tyler’s neck, his palms skimming over sharp shoulder blades and warm skin. “Please, please, Tyler, don’t ever listen to Blurryface. I care about you so much that it hurts sometimes. I care, I really do and I can’t even imagine a world without you in it. It would feel so empty, so gray without you. Please don’t leave me, Ty.” Josh knows he’s begging, tears stinging the corners of his eyes, head still buried against Tyler’s neck, pink lips brushing over olive skin every time he speaks. Tyler is the only person Josh can justify begging for.

*

The sun is stronger now, Tyler can feel the heat of it against his skin. He sighs contentedly as Josh cards through his hair, tugging lightly at the ends causing a slow smile to spread over Tyler’s face. He’s laying on a patch of dry grass, his head in Josh’s lap and he can’t help but smile at the light feeling in his chest, the pleasant swirling sensation in his guts. They have been sitting under this tree in comfortable silence, watching the other patients in their wing play soccer with each other for the past 45 minutes. Their outdoor hour is one of the few things Tyler genuinely looks forward to every day.

“Ty,” Josh’s voice is apprehensive and catches Tyler’s attention right away. He peers up at the pink-haired boy with an inquiring look. Josh clears his throat and looks away from Tyler, fingers still twirling black locks around them. “Do you remember the other day when you found me in the day room and I said I wanted us to be able to tell each other everything?” Josh’s cheeks burn and he chews on his lip nervously.

“Yeah,” Tyler replies with his best encouraging tone.

“The meeting I had with Roger...you know how I told you he brought up some stuff?” Josh furrows his brow, trying to focus on what he's saying while his thoughts wander back to sitting in his counselor’s office and all the feelings that came with it. “Tyler...when I was little I-I was um, abused. S-sexually.” He stammers out, leaning back against the bark of the tree and letting his hands fall from Tyler’s hair and settle in his lap. “I wanted to tell you that day but I just...I was so nervous. And after everything you t-told me this morning, I really uh, I really wanted you to know.” Josh’s stomach is churning, his intestines twisting with anxiety as he waits for Tyler to respond.

Tyler sits up and twists his body so that he's face to face with Josh. He spends a minute just letting his eyes roam over the boy in front of him, taking in the sadness in his eyes, the stiffness of his broad shoulders. He reaches out and cups Josh’s cheek, tilting his head upward so their gazes meet. He lets the pad of his thumb stroke the soft skin of Josh’s cheek. “Josh, I'm so, so fucking sorry. You don't deserve to have gone through any of that and it isn't fucking fair.” Tyler feels a flare of anger in the pit of his stomach, heating his blood. He can't imagine anyone ever wanting to hurt someone like Josh, but the mere thought of it makes Tyler’s skin crawl and his blood boil in his veins.

Josh gives Tyler a soft smile and turns his head slightly to plant a gentle kiss in the palm of Tyler’s hand. Tyler feels that now familiar fluttering in his stomach and grins so wide he feels like his face might crack. There are no more words spoken between the two boys, only a shared look that says, “together we can get through all of this.”

Tyler doesn't think he's ever felt this hopeful for his future.

 


	9. IX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter can be very triggering, please read with caution.

Tyler wishes more than anything that mental illness worked anything like it does in movies. He wishes that it were as romanticized in real life as it is in books and on tv. He wishes that finding one person who cares about you enough is all it takes to put your pieces back together. If that were the case, then maybe Tyler would be okay right now, because for the first time in his life he has someone who serves as a constant reassurance. Someone who cares about him and goes out of their way to show it. Tyler has Josh, and Josh is so much more than anything Tyler could have asked for. 

Unfortunately, life is not much like the romanticized tv version. There is no be-all and end-all “cure” to mental illness. No matter how hard Josh tries to show Tyler how much he cares, there's always that malevolent voice living in the depths of his mind to fill him up with doubt. The relentless whispering telling him Josh will get sick of Tyler’s crying, the irrational fear that Josh secretly hates him. Or worse, lately the sudden sharp aching in his chest at the realization that he  _ needs  _ Josh and he wants him in more ways than Josh will ever allow.

Blurryface is delighted at this, uses it against Tyler as ammo to crush any sentiment of hope he has. And this is how Tyler finds himself sitting on the cold tiled floor of their bathroom with a makeshift noose in hand, fashioned out of his bed sheet. There's an odd sense of calm crashing over him in waves and it helps him to loosen his grip on the noose. He twists it around in his grasp, eyes locked on the knot of it but his vision unfocused, his thoughts racing as his surroundings begin to melt away.

He thinks about Josh sleeping in the next room, lips parted just slightly, pink hair mussed against their pillows, limbs warm and heavy from sleep. He thinks about Josh’s strong arms wrapped tightly around him, or the warmth of his fingertips when they trail over Tyler’s thin skin, tingling deep in his brittle bones. Blurryface gives a harsh laugh that snaps Tyler out of his thoughts.

_ “You're pathetic. How long are you going to drag this out for, coward?”   _

*

Josh wakes up with a sense of confusion, immediately registering the missing weight beside him. He arches his back off the bed in a stretch, his spine popping into place. “Tyler?” He calls out unsurely, glancing around the room through half-lidded eyes. He realizes it’s only 4 AM when he spots the clock hanging on the wall opposite him. Josh runs a hand through his messy hair, tugging at the knots and sits up in his bed. He groans at the winter air that wraps around his body, enveloping him in a cold embrace that turns his pale skin into gooseflesh.

He saunters toward the bathroom door, eyes still half closed. He reaches out and knocks on the door lightly, “Tyler?” He calls again cutting himself off with a yawn.

On the other side of the wooden door, Tyler stands in front of the mirror, trembling hands still holding on tight to his poorly made noose. Gleaming red eyes are staring back at him, coaxing him like glittering rubies. Tyler can feel the sting of tears at the back of his eyes when he hears Josh’s voice calling his name again. Blurryface screams that it’s now or never, Tyler has one last chance. 

He takes a steadying breath, squaring his shoulders with forced confidence and walks willfully to the wooden chair he’d taken out of their room and pulled into their bathroom, leaving it deliberately in front of their shower. Tyler takes another deep breath and steps up onto the chair.

_ “It can all end here. All the pain will be gone. Josh doesn’t really care about you, no one does. Think of how surprised they’ll all be when they find your body. They’ll take you seriously then, Tyler.” _

The voice is much more soothing now than Tyler has ever heard it. It’s slow and sweet, relaxing every one of Tyler’s nerves as he ties the noose around the steel shower bar above him. He shuts his eyes tightly when he hears another knock at the door, this one sharper, all bony knuckles against wood. He takes another moment to compose himself, taking deep breaths and exhaling them slowly.

_ “You’re never gonna get better. This is the only way out, Tyler. Just get it over with.”  _ Tyler nods his head, thinks this is the only promise he’s ever truly believed and slips the end of the noose over his head. The knot rests dauntingly at the base of Tyler’s neck, pressing heavily against the vertebrae of his spine. One more deep breath and Tyler edges his way off the wooden chair. The pressure becomes crushing against his throat as he lets all of his weight shift to one leg, the other now dangling in the air.

By the time Josh has called out Tyler’s name five times in a row, he can feel a sense of dread engulfing him. He isn’t sure what it is or why, but the utter silence coming from inside their bathroom is so unnerving and Josh can’t seem to swallow the panic rising up in his throat anymore. It doesn’t take much longer for Josh to make a decision and practically rip the door off it’s hinges, endlessly grateful that it’s constructed of such flimsy wood.

Josh’s blood turns to ice in his veins, his heart beats painfully in his chest when he runs into the room. His throat closes up at the sight of Tyler’s body twitching and convulsing, dangling from a crude noose wrapped tightly against his throat, olive skin turning a sickly shade of blue. His vision is blurring with unshed tears as he races to Tyler’s side and quickly wraps his arms around the other boy’s middle, hoisting his body back up onto the wooden chair. Shaky hands and uncoordinated fingers attempt to untie the knot at the back of Tyler’s raw neck. He pulls the noose from Tyler’s neck and throws it furiously across the room, a sob escapes from between his lips, his chest feels like someone has ripped it open. He pulls Tyler’s body flush against his own and cups the sides of his roommate’s face with trembling hands.

“What the fuck did you do? What did you fucking do!” Josh whimpers, wrapping a supportive arm around Tyler’s lower back as the smaller boy’s body continues to twitches in his grasp.

Tyler’s body feels heavy and limp in Josh’s arms. His neck burns and his esophagus feels crushed, swallowing takes a conscious effort and makes Tyler’s eyes sting. He tries hard to stay conscious for Josh, but his eyes slip closed periodically, his lids too heavy to keep open for long.

“You were g-gonna f-fucking leave me!” Josh yells, burying his face against Tyler’s chest, hot tears soaking through the thin cotton of Tyler’s shirt. All Josh can think to do is get Tyler back into his bed where he knows he’s safe, so he puts an arm under Tyler’s legs, picking him up and carrying him back to Josh’s bed. He lays him down, not wasting a second before he’s crawling into bed next to him, laying halfway on top of Tyler.

“I’m s-so s-s-sorry,” Tyler’s voice is so weak when he tries to speak, brown eyes fluttering open to gaze up at Josh.

Josh’s heart shatters at the sound of Tyler’s broken apology. He leans down to place a wet kiss on Tyler’s neck, “please don’t leave,” he murmurs softly against the warmth of Tyler’s skin, lips trailing all the way down to his collarbone.

“S-so sorry,” Tyler repeats, tears cascading down his flushed cheeks this time. Josh feels something inside of him burn and he can’t keep the sobs that pour out of him in any longer until he’s cupping the sides of Tyler’s face and leaning down to press his lips firmly against the other boy’s full ones.

It’s nothing like what Tyler imagined a first kiss to be. Tyler and Josh’s tears are mingling and soaking everything, making their kiss sloppy and wet but Tyler still kisses back with fervour. He feels like his insides have been set ablaze when he feels the tip of Josh’s tongue brushing over his bottom lip. He parts his lips eagerly for Josh. Josh licks at every inch of Tyler’s mouth, running his tongue over the roof of the other boy’s mouth. Tyler skims his hands hungrily over the muscles in Josh’s back, admiring how they jump and flex under Tyler’s kneading fingertips.

They only come apart long enough for Tyler to suck in a deep breath and then he’s exhaling it shakily when Josh’s lips latch onto his neck and his teeth graze his skin lightly, sucking a pink mark into the frail skin. Josh peppers light kisses over the raw skin of Tyler’s neck where he can see the red, broken skin from where the rudimentary noose lay. He sucks a bruise into the skin of Tyler’s collarbone and then licks a stripe up the other boy’s Adam’s apple before attaching their lips again. He sucks Tyler’s bottom lip into his mouth and Tyler tangles his fingers in Josh’s pink curls, giving the ends a tug in response.

Tyler lets out a broken moan against the other boy’s lips when he feels Josh grind his hips down against his. He can feel lust pooling deep in his guts, his pants tightening when he feels Josh’s cock pressed against his hip. He hastily wraps his legs around Josh’s waist, moving so that their cocks press together when he rolls his hips forward. Josh gasps at the pressure, a sudden shot of pleasure running up his spine.

“J-Josh, please. Please fuck me, Josh,” He whispers in Josh’s ear, his cheeks burning, his body trembling with need.

Josh nods emphatically but doesn’t speak a word, knowing his voice is too shaky to carry out a single syllable. Instead, he lifts Tyler’s shirt and pulls it off over the other boy’s head, resting his palms against the smooth plane of Tyler’s stomach. He leans down and sucks at the supple skin, letting his hand wander further down to palm Tyler’s erection. Tyler whines and lifts his hips to meet the warm pressure of Josh’s hand. He continues to push his hips forward and follows Josh’s lead, stripping the other boy of his shirt and tossing it aside. Tyler runs his hands over every expanse of skin he can reach and digs his fingernails into Josh’s back when the pink-haired boy pulls Tyler’s pants and boxer briefs off in one fluid motion.

Josh doesn't waste any time, kissing and sucking at Tyler’s stomach, licking ardently at the trail of fine hair just below his belly button. Tyler squirms beneath him as Josh moves further down his body achingly slowly. Tyler lets out a breathy moan when Josh finally reaches down and wraps his hand around Tyler’s cock, bringing the tip of it to his lips. He trails the tip of his tongue over it, savouring the little bit of precome that leaks out. He kisses the head of Tyler’s cock gingerly with a small smile before taking all of it into his mouth.

“O-oh fuck!” Tyler squeaks when he feels the warmth of Josh’s mouth around him, the hot trail of saliva running down the shaft of his cock. Josh reaches up and places two fingers against Tyler’s lips. It doesn't take long for Tyler to get the message and swirl his tongue around his roommate’s fingers, sucking them earnestly into his mouth. Josh hums against the sensation and pulls his fingers slowly out of Tyler’s mouth with a soft pop. He lets Tyler's cock fall from between his lips, using his hand to move up and down his length.

“Are you sure you want this, Ty?”

Tyler’s eyes snap open at the question and he props himself up on his elbows, locking eyes with Josh. “There is literally nothing I want more.”

He's rewarded with a grin that stretches across Josh’s face, perfect white teeth gleaming in the sunlight peaking in, the pink of his tongue poking between his teeth and suddenly Tyler feels that swirling in his guts again, warming his whole body. He watches transfixed as Josh reaches down between his legs, the sudden pressure of a slick finger pressed to his entrance forcing his eyes to flutter shut once more. Josh wraps his lips around Tyler’s cock as he slowly slides his finger deeper into Tyler’s tight heat.

Tyler is left a breathless mess, one hand tangled in Josh’s pink curls, the other gripping the bed sheet till his knuckles turn white as Josh spends his time crooking his finger inside of him, brushing against something inside Tyler that causes his heart to skip a beat and something in his stomach to coil up with heat. He lets out a string of incomprehensible curses when Josh adds a second finger, mimicking the same movements and spreading Tyler open wider.

“Holy f-fuck!” He groans, trying to take a deep breath between the moans that spill out of him. “Josh! J-Josh, I need you. Please,” he flashes Josh a pleading look and spreads his legs a little wider, pushing his hips up. Josh leans down further, placing his tongue flat against Tyler’s entrance before tracing it with the tip of his tongue, forcing Tyler to squirm even more and roll his hips.

Josh pulls away from him with a smirk, pulling his own pants off, and then moves back in to kiss up his stomach and chest back to Tyler’s lips. Josh feels warmth explode in his chest when his lips meet Tyler’s, moving in tandem. He sucks at Tyler’s bottom lip as he lines his cock up with Tyler’s entrance, slowly moving forward till the head of his cock is engulfed by Tyler’s heat. Tyler moans against Josh’s lips, wrapping his slender arms around Josh’s neck and pulling him closer so their bodies are flush together.

“More, more. N-need more,” Tyler murmurs rocking his hips up against Josh. Josh complies, pushing deeper inside of Tyler until he's completely buried inside of him. It takes Tyler a moment to adjust to the feeling, a slight burning sting and the overwhelming feeling of fullness. But he wants this, wants Josh more than nearly anything he's ever wanted in his life so he lets his body relax against Josh’s and takes a few deep breaths before telling Josh to keep going.

Josh moves his hips against Tyler’s, pulling his cock slowly out of him and then pushing it back in, angling himself so that he brushes up against that bundle of nerves that makes Tyler whine in the way he adores. He soaks in the waves of pleasure that roll through him every time he pushes in and feels Tyler all around him. Tyler wraps his legs around Josh’s waist again, pulling him in closer till there's no space between them. Their skin hot and slick with sweat where it meets, Tyler’s head tilted back, eyes shut and swollen lips parted to emit broken moans. Josh lets his eyes close but freezes when images of Tyler’s frail body convulsing and hands of a monster ghosting over his adolescent body flash behind his eyelids. He stills in his movements, tears welling up in his eyes when he looks down at Tyler beneath him. Fear twists around his insides at the thought of not having found Tyler in time, of losing him to this  _ thing  _ in his mind.

But then Tyler is there, pulling Josh into his arms, and he’s all Josh knows, placing soft kisses to Josh’s forehead and cheeks, wiping away Josh’s tears. “It's okay, it's okay. Shhh,” he kisses the shell of Josh’s ear as he whispers reassurances, stroking his pink hair. Josh starts to move again, rolling his hips more slowly against the other boy, letting his cock brush against Tyler’s most vulnerable spot. Tyler punctuates each moan of Josh’s name with a kiss to any and every patch of skin he can reach and Josh buries his head in the crook of Tyler’s neck, breathing his scent in deeply as he continues to push into Tyler faster and deeper. Josh wraps his hand around Tyler’s cock, squeezing his length and running his hand up and down it in time with his hips.

“Fuck, fuck, f-fuck! Josh, I'm gonna come! I'm gonna come oh - oh fuck!” Tyler’s eyes roll back into his head, his vision blurring around the edges and his heart pounding in his ears when he feels his orgasm wash over him, pulling him under its overwhelming waves.

Watching Tyler arching his back off the bed, moaning Josh’s name breathlessly is all it takes for his own orgasm to take over. His hips continue to snap against Tyler as heat travels up Josh’s spine and explodes in the pit of his stomach, spilling out of the tip of his cock and inside of Tyler.

He lets his body fall limp against Tyler’s, cock still buried deep inside of him, trying hard to catch his breath. Tyler smiles at him, his eyes glowing with a warmth Josh wants to drown in and he leans up to place another kiss to Josh’s lips.

A loud knock on their door brings the boys back to reality, “I don't know what you two are up to but if you don't get your asses out here for vitals in 5 minutes, I'm marking you both as missed!” Lori shouts pounding her small fist against the door. Josh and Tyler share a glance before bursting into a fit of giggles and Tyler doesn't think he'll ever stop smiling. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this chapter is much longer, so sorry about that. Also, I wrote the smut sitting next to my mom in the living room hahaha. I hope you guys liked it. <3


	10. X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted to be as brutally honest with BPD as possible. This includes the negative parts of the disorder that are not always represented. Jealousy, irrational thoughts, rocky interpersonal relationships, splitting - all of these things may not be pretty characteristics, but they are real facets of the disorder, so I thought it was only fair for them to be present in this story as well.

“Before we wrap up today, I’ve got two tags to hand out. Pete, I hear you’re leaving us soon, so I wanted to take the opportunity to give you this before you’re outta here, buddy.” Bert’s eyes shine, his chest puffed out proudly. He holds a red tag in an outstretched palm to Pete, waiting patiently as the boy ambles up to the front of the room. Pete takes the tag from Bert with a grin stretching from ear to ear and Bert tucks a strand of hair behind his ear and moves aside so Pete can take the center of the room. 

“Thanks so much, Bert. It’s been a long 30 days but I’ve met some really good friends here,” Pete flashes a smile momentarily at Hayley, who twirls her red hair around her finger but smiles back nonetheless. “I feel like I’ve learned so much from all of you. And I’m just...I’m really thankful, so yeah, thanks.” He finishes his little speech with a paltry head nod and sits back down in his seat.

Bert scampers back to the front of the room and claps his hands together to capture everyone’s attention once again. “It’s been a real honor meeting you, Pete. I wish you the best in your life and your sobriety.” The NA leader reaches out to snatch another tag off the table beside him, this one navy blue with the same gold text. “Alright, next we’ve got Tyler Joseph.” Tyler huffs at this and slouches further down against his plastic chair, trying desperately to avoid every set of eyes now planted on him. “Clean and serene for six months! Would you like to say a few words, Tyler?”

Tyler shakes his head vigorously but then Josh is there, nudging Tyler’s knee with his own and shooting him an encouraging look. He sighs melodramatically and lets his shoulders sag as he saunters up to the front of the room, coming to a stop next to his enthusiastic NA leader. Bert eagerly hands Tyler his tag and steps aside. Tyler studies the tag in his hand for a moment, the ridges around the sides of it, the gold text printed across it that reads, “clean & serene for six months” in capital letters. He rolls his eyes and scratches at the back of his head, unsure of what he’s meant to say.

“Listen, I’m only gonna be honest up here. That’s...that’s all I can be, alright?” He glances at Bert and waits for a nod of acknowledgement before he continues. He takes a deep breath, holding it for a beat and then exhales slowly. “I don’t even deserve this,” he holds up the blue tag for everyone to see, “I’m only clean six months because I’m here. If I were...if I were  _ home _ ,” Tyler vaguely wonders what  _ home  _ even is for him anymore. “I don’t think I’d be clean right now. I don’t even know if I’d be alive right now.” He lets his eyes flicker to Josh’s, locking gazes. He swallows hard at the overwhelming sadness present in Josh’s brown eyes and quickly averts his gaze, peering down at the carpet instead. “Anyway, I guess thanks for...this. Even though I didn’t do anything to deserve it.” He shrugs his shoulders timidly and wanders back to his seat, pocketing the blue tag.

“Honesty is always appreciated here, Tyler.” Bert sounds so much more genuine speaking these words than he has the entirety of the meeting and it makes Tyler momentarily second guess everything he just said in front of a room full of people. “Alright everyone, that’s all for today. Let’s wrap it up!” Tyler stands up with another drawn out sigh when everyone else does, taking Josh’s hand in his own and bowing his head just slightly.

“God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. Keep coming back, it works if you work it, so work it, you’re worth it!” The room is filled with zealous voices chanting in unison, Tyler mumbles along with the mantra, eyes downcast the entire time. Josh squeezes his hand lightly and runs his thumb over Tyler’s knuckles but Tyler lets go of his grip as soon as the meeting is over and heads out of the room.

 

*

Some days Tyler is more Blurryface than himself. Some days are just harder than others, and really he doesn’t expect anyone to understand that. He gets it. Not many people have a totally separate entity living inside their heads, telling them what to do or say, how to live. Tyler knows that some days he can be difficult, days when his head is filled to the brim with doubts and fears, till they leak out of his eye sockets and chapped lips. Today is one of those days. Has been since this morning’s NA meeting. He spends most of his day curled up in bed and he tries hard,  _ really  _ hard to not be bitter toward Josh whenever he wanders into the room. Especially when he comes in after lunch, brandishing a plate of food proudly that he tells Tyler he convinced Linda to let him take back to him. Tyler even tries to eat half of the sandwich Josh brought to him, if only because he can’t stand to see the flicker of disappointment in Josh’s warm brown eyes when he informs him he isn’t hungry.

He doesn’t plan on going to any groups or meals, but he knows if he skips anymore he’ll find himself in Roger’s office tomorrow morning explaining why he laid in bed all day like the useless piece of shit he is. Tyler lethargically rolls out of his bed, eyes still half-lidded from nearly a full day of sleep. He joins the growing line of patients in the hallway getting ready to head down to dinner. He glances around, spending a minute searching for that particular shade of pink that makes his heart speed up.

_ “Always so needy, Tyler. He fucked you once and you fell in love? You’re pathetic.” _

Tyler lets his gaze fall back to the floor, his heart sinking at the truth behind his thoughts. He doesn’t want Josh to think he’s clingy, doesn’t want Josh to realize how badly Tyler needs or wants him. Doesn’t want to drive him away.

_ “You think he didn’t know you were needy when you begged him to fuck you?” _

He swallows against the sharp pang in his chest, following the line out of their wing and down to the cafeteria, desperately trying to tune out the voice in his head.

_ “What do you think is gonna happen between you two? He only fucked you. Think about all the people he’s fucked before you. All the people who have had him, put their hands on the skin you adore so much.” _

Tyler’s skin grows hot and feels suffocating against his bones. He subconsciously digs his fingernails into the skin of his inner arm, tearing at the thin skin blanketing his tendons. He skips the line for food and scrambles to the other side of the room, taking a seat at one of the tables. He feels his insecurities clawing at the insides of his skull and he closes his eyes, trying to compose himself.

He knows logically that Josh has probably been with other people before Tyler, and he also knows logically that nothing is wrong with that. But something deep down in his core screams otherwise. His hands tremble, nails digging deeper into his skin. Thoughts of stranger’s hands wandering along the flat expanse of Josh’s stomach, tangling in his pink curls, kissing his pretty lips send relentless waves of nausea through him.

“Dude, you okay?” Tyler’s head snaps up, hands coming to rest at his sides and he turns quickly to meet the concerned eyes of Ryan. Tyler nods, his throat too dry to make out an actual sentence. Ryan gives him a weary once over and pops a chip into his mouth before he continues on. “So listen, are you and Josh like, a  _ thing _ ?”

Ryan just smirks when Tyler glares at him. “What are you talking about?” He asks through gritted teeth.

“He’s hot, dude. If you’re not gonna make a move, let me know so I can.” Ryan laughs and gives Tyler’s shoulder a light pat. Tyler swats his hand away and gives him another irritated look.

“You won’t fucking touch him,” Tyler states blatantly, staring the other boy down with a vexed look.

“Dude, chill.” Ryan raises his hands in protest, “He’s all yours. I was just asking, you just had to say.” He gives Tyler another questioning glance before he gets up and quickly walks away from the table. Tyler stares down at his shaking hands, trying his hardest not to search the cafeteria for a head of pink hair.

_ “Maybe he already forgot about you. How much does he really care? He hasn’t been around much all day.” _

He shakes his head vehemently and cradles his head in his hands, fingernails digging into the skin of his scalp. He stays like this until Linda is tapping him softly on the shoulder and telling him it’s time to go. This time he doesn’t even bother searching for Josh, just lines up in the hallway and files out with everyone else back to their wing. He decides group is out of the question, thinks if he sees Ryan’s face again, he might just punch him in the mouth.

Instead, he makes a beeline for his room, but when he opens the door his eyes settle on the same shade of pink he’s been searching for all night.

“There you are!” Josh is all warm smiles and open arms as he moves toward Tyler, ready to envelop him in a tight hug.

Tyler smacks his hands away from him, “Don’t touch me.” He crosses his arms protectively over his chest and shuffles further away from his roommate, brow furrowed.

Josh’s heart stops as Tyler backs away from him, he can feel his stomach twist with abrupt panic and his smile immediately falls. “Did...did I do something? What’s wrong?” He hesitantly reaches out, hopelessly trying to grasp as Tyler’s hand and pull him closer.

“I said don’t touch me!” Tyler yells indignantly, his voice becoming raspy.

Josh flinches at Tyler’s harsh tone and pulls away from the other boy as if he’s been burned. “T-Tyler?” He stammers uncertainly, his voice soft in contrast to Tyler’s broken screams. He keeps his arms at his sides this time, but slowly shuffles forward, one foot at a time. He watches attentively as Tyler’s gaze drops to the floor and his shoulders begin to shake. “Tyler? What’s going on?” He tries again, more sure of himself as he moves steadily closer, eyes never leaving Tyler for too long. “Can you talk to me?”

Tyler runs his hands through his hair, gripping at the ends and pulling as a whimper falls from his chapped lips. He can feel hot streams of tears staining his flushed cheeks as he sinks to his knees in front of Josh. Josh is careful not to touch Tyler, but kneels in front of him, waiting patiently for Tyler to speak. His heart pounds painfully in his chest with every cry that spills out of Tyler, frustrated because he has no idea how to help.

“I...I don’t know what the f-fuck I’m d-doing, Josh!” Tyler screams, pounding his fists against his head. Josh moves forward now, gingerly wrapping his hands around Tyler’s wrists, pulling his fists away from him. “I’ve n-never felt t-t-this way before!” Tyler feels like his chest has been ripped open, a gaping hole inside of him just endlessly aching with every sob that pours out of his mouth. He tries to suck in a deep breath, trying to steady himself but then Josh is wrapping his strong arms around Tyler’s frail frame and pulling him closer. He buries his head in Josh’s chest and feels vaguely guilty about the tears staining his shirt, trying in vain to stop the tears that continue to leak out of the corners of his bloodshot eyes.

“What are you feeling, Ty?” Josh’s voice is soft and full of concern, and it’s a brief reminder of why Tyler is suddenly flooded with the feelings in the pit of his stomach and wrapping around his heart, warmth expanding throughout his chest.

“I’ve n-never...I’ve never even l-like, liked another person. I’ve never k-kissed a-anyone or - or been in a....a um, relationship.” He hiccups, mumbling against the fabric of Josh’s tee shirt. “I-I don’t even know what we are, J-Josh.” He laments, fresh tears welling up in his eyes.

Josh gives him a sad smile, just one corner of his lips lifting, a flash of sadness in his eyes when he glances down at Tyler in his arms. He strokes the back of Tyler’s neck fondly and leans down to place a chaste kiss to the other boy’s forehead. “Tyler, I...I don’t know what we are either. But what I do know is that...that I’m yours. I’m all yours, Ty. And I don’t want anyone else, so I’d like it if you’d you know, be mine too.” Josh places another kiss on the top of Tyler’s head, closing his eyes briefly to try and soothe his own frayed nerves.

“But you’ve b-been with other p-people, b-better people.” Tyler doesn’t even think this makes sense to Josh, but he can feel jealousy bubbling up in his chest again, scorching everything inside of him. He wipes frantically at the tears still falling, pouring down his cheeks. He bites down anxiously on his bottom lip, his teeth ripping at the torn skin and leaving a drop of blood to well up there.

Josh places a finger under Tyler’s chin and gently tilts his head upward. He leans down to meet the other boy’s lips in a tender kiss, licking at the blood pooling on his bottom lip and sucking lightly before breaking away. “If I had met you sooner, I wouldn’t have been with anyone else. I wouldn’t have needed anyone else but you. And I don’t need anyone else but you now.” Josh speaks with complete confidence and it actually helps to extinguish the fire in Tyler’s lungs, even if only a little.

With each press of their lips, Tyler can hear the cruel voice in his head waning and he can’t help but smile against Josh’s lips. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys endlessly for all the support this story has gotten. It's insane and your comments literally keep this story alive whenever writer's block starts to come into play. Being a writer with ADHD is one of the most difficult things, I swear. It's like knowing exactly what you want to write, but not being able to focus long enough to actually get it out, ugh.


	11. XI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mental illness and addiction are not pretty, they are not romantic, there is nothing sweet about them. They are ugly and all-consuming and they change you as a person, down to the very foundation of who you are. I really wanted that to be present in my depiction of addiction and BPD. Please read with care. <3

Josh knows consciously that it's stupid for him to worry so much. Knows that when a person starts a new medication, their body takes a while to adjust to it. He knows that's what's been causing Tyler to spend the past week in his bed, only waking up long enough for bathroom breaks and to pick at the food Josh sneaks in to him. But Josh still can't manage to shake the concern gnawing at his core. 

Tyler informs Josh on Monday that Dr. Ye decided it was time to try a new course of treatment, so his Lexapro is now Cymbalta. Tyler starts taking the new pill on Tuesday morning, and by Thursday night, he hasn't left his bed for more than a total of five hours. This leaves Josh feeling unnerved and now on Saturday afternoon, he sits on the floor beside Tyler’s bed, stroking the other boy’s hair and watching fondly as Tyler’s lips part with each exhale. He feels a wave of warm affection roll through him at the sight of his roommate, bubbling up in his chest.

Josh doesn't know when his feelings developed so strongly for the brunette lying in front of him, but he thinks maybe they have always been there, lying dormant in his chest. He thinks that it may have started during his first week at NHH when Tyler (despite his initial stubborn arguments), frequently checked on Josh throughout his detox when his withdrawal symptoms were at their peak. Tyler would spend so much time talking Josh through the worst of it all, that small raspy voice always filling his ears with reassuring words; warm hands always rubbing small, soothing circles into Josh’s back when he sat perched over their toilet. Even when Josh was sure he'd rather be dead than laying in a cold sweat, limbs aching down to his joints, stomach painfully churning, somehow Tyler could always manage to make him smile and forget even for a minute.

He thinks that his blossoming feelings were only further cemented the day Josh felt his heart swell up and break when he had walked in on Tyler snorting Adderall. He thinks it was at some point between then that he felt the now familiar flutter of affection in his chest for the first time, warmth pooling in his stomach and spreading through his limbs, making his fingertips tingle at the mere sight of his roommate.

He’s spent so many nights running his fingertips through soft black locks, eyes wide open and fixated on the soft, scarred olive skin of the boy next to him, always wondering what recovery would be like without Tyler. Roger always takes the time to point out that Josh is avoiding his problems, focusing too much on Tyler’s to solve his own. Josh disagrees, he thinks helping Tyler through his problems is also helping to solve his own problems. He hasn’t told Tyler, doesn’t want to freak him out, but he’s the first person Josh has truly been able to show real affection to. It’s true that he’s been with other people before Tyler. Josh can’t even count on two hands how many times he’s gotten too fucked up and woken up days later in a stranger’s bed. But Josh has never met anyone who he trusted enough to allow himself to feel anything, apart from lust, for.

Tyler shifts in his bed and rolls onto his back, eyes blinking open against the light. He groans and reaches an unsteady hand out to Josh’s face. He lightly runs his fingers over the stubble on Josh’s cheek and can't help the small smile that stretches across his face.

“Hi, baby boy,” Josh leans down and places a soft kiss to the other boy's lips.

Tyler tries to stifle a yawn but fails as he arches his back in a stretch and rubs at his eyes groggily. “What time is it?”

“Time for NA group, wasn't sure if you wanted to go or not.” Josh shrugs uncertainly but continues to affectionately run his fingers through Tyler’s hair.

“Fuck NA. Need to see Pete or Brendon,” Tyler slowly pulls himself into a sitting position, groaning with every movement. His muscles tightening up and twitching with pain.

“Why do you wanna see them?” Josh isn't stupid by any means. He knows the few reasons Tyler actually goes out of his way to speak to anyone - especially Pete and Brendon. He feels his heart sink at the thought of them, that image of Tyler bent over their bathroom sink, rolled up paper pressed to his nostril still burnt into his memory. Josh knows the mask of addiction too well - partly because he spent so long hiding behind it himself.

Tyler stares at Josh for a minute, expression blank, hair tousled, cheeks tinted pink from sleep. He shakes his head and looks down at his hands. “I can't keep feeling like this,” is all Tyler can reply with. His voice is weak and he can't bear to look Josh in the eye while he speaks, but it's been nearly a week since he's gotten high and his body can feel the affects of it.

“And you think  _ Brendon  _ or  _ Pete _ can fix that?” Josh asks words soaked in more venom than he intended.

“No, but they have something that will,” Tyler mumbles in response. He squeezes his eyes shut and exhales deeply, “Don't start with this shit, Josh.” He chances a glance at his pink-haired roommate and sucks on his bottom lip at the flash of anger clouding Josh’s soft brown eyes.

“They don't have anything that can help you, Tyler. You're not doing that anymore. You don't need it.” Josh says through gritted teeth, anger bubbling up in his chest, winding its way around his guts.

Tyler stares at Josh for a moment, dumbfounded by the other boy’s words. He furrows his brow and leans back against the wall next to his bed, out of Josh’s grasp. He can still feel bile rising in his throat, burning the walls of his esophagus; his limbs ache down to his very nerve endings and he thinks - no, he knows there is no way Josh knows what Tyler truly needs in this moment. There is no way Josh should be telling Tyler what he needs or what he should be doing. “You have no idea what I need, Josh. And you don't get to tell me what to do.” He replies with the most defiant tone he can muster while nausea still swirls around his insides.

Tyler's temples throb painfully at the intrusive resounding voice that abruptly fills his head. His stomach twists and churns, even more, when the familiar voice permeates his thoughts, demanding he listens. He squints his eyes against the mounting pressure in his head, clenches his jaw when the pulsating pain continues to gnaw at his brain. He barely registers that Josh is no longer sitting beside him, now pacing angrily back and forth in the center of the room, back turned toward Tyler.

“I’m not trying to tell you what to do! I’m saying this because I care about you, Ty. I care about you getting better and I don’t want to see you go back to that!” Josh shouts back at Tyler, anxiously running a hand through his tangled pink curls.

_ “Don’t listen to him, you know he doesn’t care. He’s lying, just like everyone else. Everyone always lies to you. Poor little pathetic Tyler.” _

Tyler shakes his head furiously in hopes that the thoughts will burn out and fade away, but he immediately regrets it when the dull, gnawing ache becomes a sharp, shooting pain throughout his head. He cradles his head in his hands, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. “You don’t care! You don’t care! No one cares!” He yells back, digging his fingernails into the already scabbed skin of his scalp.

“What are you talking about? You know I do! I care so much, Ty. You’re not even giving the Cymbalta a chance to work.” Josh tries desperately to reason with him, but the words are distant when they reach Tyler’s ears. All Tyler can hear are Blurryface’s condescending screams, like nails on a chalkboard forcing a shiver down his spine and turning his skin to gooseflesh.

_ “Liar. Liar. Liar. LIAR. LIAR. LIAR. HE’S FUCKING LYING!” _

“Shut up, Josh, you’re a fucking liar like everyone else. Is anything you say even true? Why are you even fucking here?” He snaps, voice raspy from the acidic bile he swallows down. He keeps his head buried in his hands, blood welling up in his fingernails as he continues to dig his nails deeper and deeper into his skin.

Josh stops his pacing to turn toward the other boy with a nonplussed look. “What are you talking about?”

“Why are you here, Josh?” Tyler bites out through gritted teeth, slowly picking up his head to glare at the boy opposite him. “Did your fucking  _ mommy  _ send you here? Are you on probation? What is it? Why the fuck are you here?” He grimaces when another wave of nausea rolls through him.

“Shut up, Ty. You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Josh warns, all traces of emotion except for anger now gone from his voice.

“Did mommy get sick of her scumbag son stealing to support his habit?” Tyler smirks at the look of pure rage that crosses Josh’s face at his words. “Did she send you off to rehab? Did she just want to get rid of you?”

Josh shakes his head and hangs it forlornly with a sigh after a moment. “Go Tyler. Go get high with Brendon and Pete, but do not come back to this room. And...and know that the second you leave this room, you and I are done.” He speaks with forced confidence, but he means every word and Tyler can hear the sincerity in every syllable that leaves Josh’s mouth. 

Blurryface screams and screams at Tyler to leave, to tell Josh he can’t control him, to get so high he can’t feel a thing. He struggles to pull himself out of bed, flinching against the pain that continues to flood his body and the steady throb in his head. He doesn’t meet Josh’s gaze once, pointedly avoiding any contact with the other boy as he slowly makes his way across the room to their door.

“If you must know, Tyler,” Josh doesn’t even try and hold back the hostility in his tone this time, “I was homeless for a year before I decided to  _ voluntarily  _ come here. I haven’t seen my mother in a year.”

Tyler doesn’t bother to respond, just lets the words sink into his already aching brain and then pulls the door open and saunters into the hallway, slamming the door shut behind him.

That Saturday night, Tyler spends it with a rolled up paper placed firmly to one nostril and the pungent taste of Adderall staining the inside of his mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so, so endlessly sorry for not updating for so long. I literally had work every single day for like three weeks and it turned into the biggest writer's block, holy hell. But here it is! I hope you guys liked it! And happy holidays, Merry Christmas, happy New Year and all of that!


	12. XII

On Sunday afternoon, just after lunch, the sun is beaming through the windows into the day room as all the patients file in. Tyler sits slouched in a cushioned seat, squinting against the intruding light. He skipped lunch again in favor of sleeping instead, only finally getting up after Josh left the room, allowing him the privacy he needs to snort two more of his stashed Adderall. How else is he expected to function after all? 

“Joseph!” A familiar voice barks. Tyler glances up to find Anthony standing over him, grimace etched into his face as he peers down at him. “You got a visitor. Get up!” The older man reaches down and promptly tightens his grip on Tyler’s arm, yanking him into a standing position.

Tyler furrows his brow at his MHA, “Are you sure it's me? I haven't had any visitors.”

“Yes, I'm sure, idiot. Let's go!” Anthony gives Tyler another tug in the direction of the doors, an irritated sigh leaving him. Tyler briefly catches a pair of inquiring brown eyes burning into him from across the room and he scolds himself for not being able to look away.

_ “He doesn't love you, he doesn't even like you. He threw you away like everyone else. You don't need him. Fuck him!”  _ Blurryface whispers this mantra over and over again to him, a painful reminder of all the things Josh said the night before. The words were like syrup, spoken slow and sweet but they made Tyler’s chest feel hollow like he lost the only person who ever cared.

He follows Anthony out of the adolescent wing, past the cafeteria, down to a small room with a wooden table and four chairs, navy blue patterned fabric stretched tight over them. The MHA gestures for Tyler to step inside before shutting the door behind him and leaving him on his own. Tyler turns around cautiously, his gaze freezing on the two people sitting in front of him.

“You've got to be kidding me,” he murmurs to himself, trying to stifle the laugh he can feel bubbling up in his throat.

“It's so nice to see you, Tyler!”

He can't seem to hold back the eye roll at this, though. “So nice to see me yet you haven't come to visit me once in nearly seven months, mom?” He takes a seat at the table, opposite his visitors.

“Do not talk to your mother like that.” His father replies sternly, a look of disappointment crossing his face.

Tyler holds his breath, exhaling evenly to try and compose himself. He runs a hand through his hair, twisting a longer lock around his fingers anxiously. “Why are you here?”

“Roger said we had to come and discuss outpatient treatment plans. Tyler, you know we would have visited more often, it's just so far and your father and I have been so busy.” Tyler huffs at her mock-apologetic tone, shifting in his seat to cross his arms over his chest.

“I'm sure you would…” Tyler is about to break into a full on tirade when the rest of his mother’s words sink in. “Wait, did you say ‘ _ outpatient treatment plans _ ’? What does that mean?”

At this question, his mother’s usually stoic face breaks into a wide grin. “Tyler, you're coming home next Sunday!” His father is smiling wide too, all off-white teeth poking through and an arm wrapped around his mother’s small shoulders. Tyler swears the world goes into slow motion now, his brain struggling to make sense of this information, thoughts swirling around his head and bouncing off the walls of his skull. He sits frozen in his seat for what feels like hours, gaze locked on the smiling pair before him, words stuck in his throat, and for the first time since Tyler cares to remember, Blurryface is actually quiet.

“Tyler? Honey, are you okay?” His mom coaxes, reaching out to brush her fingers against Tyler’s arm. He pulls away abruptly, pushing his chair out and standing up. He glances between his parents one last time before shaking his head and leaving the room.

Anthony waits outside for him and Tyler thinks this might be the first time he's ever been thankful to see this man. “Done already?” Tyler only nods in response and leads the way back to the adolescent wing.

The first place he goes when they make it through the huge double doors into the wing is Roger’s office. He doesn't knock or care in the slightest if Roger is with another patient, he just grabs hold of the door knob and swings the door open, standing angrily in the doorway. “Why didn't you tell me I'm leaving?” His words are quiet but every syllable is bitten out with indignation. He's acutely aware of someone else’s presence in the room, bright orange-red hair in the corner of his eye.

“Hayley, I think we're about done today anyway. I'll see you next week,” Roger flashes the small girl sitting across from him a warm smile. She nods her head, squeaks out a goodbye, and quickly scurries out of the room, cautiously moving past Tyler.

Roger sighs and leans back in his chair. “Why don't you come in and have a seat?” Tyler moves further into the room, allowing the door to shut behind him but he doesn't sit down, just stands in front of his counselor, fists balled up at his sides.

“Why didn't you tell me?” He asks again, fingernails digging into his palms with every word.

“Dr. Ye and I spoke at length about this, Tyler. You've been here for almost seven months now, and with the change in medication, we think you're ready to go outpatient. You can't stay here forever, Ty. You're ready for the real world.” Tyler knows Roger’s words are meant to be comforting but they make his brain ache and his blood boil.

“We thought you'd be happy about this…” Roger looks at him uncertainly, blue eyes boring into his face, searching for some sort of explanation for Tyler’s seemingly misplaced anger.

He doesn't allow Roger an explanation, just turns his back and walks out of the office instead. He doesn't know if he  _ could  _ explain where his anger is coming from. Going home is all he’s wanted for the last seven months, but now? Now the mere thought of leaving this place causes an overwhelming sense of fear to twist around his guts and wrap around his heart.

He makes his way into his room, throwing himself into his bed and buries his face in his pillow. He can feel hot tears welling up and leaking out of the corners of his eyes, leaving wet spots on the fabric of his pillow.

“ _ This is all we wanted, Tyler. No one will be able to tell you what to do now. They can't control you out there, Tyler.”  _ The words in his head leave him with a false sense of calm, but it only lasts for a couple minutes before they're replaced with thoughts of soft pink hair, warm calloused fingertips, and bright warm brown eyes.

“ _ You don't need him! He doesn't want you. He never wanted you. He doesn't wantyou. Doesntwantyou. DOESNTWANTYOU!” _

Tyler’s cries turn into sobs and then he's screaming and screaming until his throat is raw and he thinks he can taste a hint of metallic. But he keeps screaming, hoping to drown out Blurryface and his thoughts. Hoping for a pair of warm, strong arms to wrap around him and soft pink hair and Josh’s calming voice. But this time Josh isn't there to save him.

No one is. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't thank you guys enough for reading this and especially those of you who leave comments or message me/follow me on Tumblr. You guys are definitely why this story is still being written and how I've gotten past my writer's block. I think I'm aiming for this to have somewhere between 15 and 20 chapters and possibly an epilogue. Who knows, though? Not me. This feels a lot shorter of a chapter than usual, so sorry about that. I plan on updating again this week though!


	13. XIII

Josh feels his heart sink into the pit of his stomach at the sight of smooth, olive skin, dilated brown eyes, and a head of brunette hair he longs to run his fingers through. It’s been a week since Josh spoke to Tyler, almost a week since Josh spoke to anyone at all, really. To say he misses him would be a severe understatement; his days without Tyler’s smile and warmth are painfully mundane. He misses Tyler’s raspy morning voice, his languid kisses in Josh’s bed, his perfect crooked teeth. Josh even misses Tyler’s broken sobs on his bad nights, the way he would hold onto Josh’s shirt till his knuckles turned white and beg for Josh not to leave him. Josh doesn’t even think it’s possible to miss someone you’ve only known for a couple months as much as he does, but all of his journals are filled with poorly done sketches of a brunette with sad eyes and a somber smile and his heart refuses to stop aching every time he walks into the same room. He’s spent every night for the last week replaying their last conversation in his mind, wondering what he could have said differently, regretting nearly every word that left his lips that night. He’s spent every day for the last week replaying every brush of skin, every touch of chapped lips, trying his best to remember what Tyler tastes like, wishing he could have it back. 

He quickly averts his gaze, staring at the rips in his jeans instead when Tyler sits down across the room from him. He peers through his lashes at the other boy, he watches as Tyler bounces his leg up and down, never able to sit still. He rubs at his nose and Josh doesn’t miss the way his hands tremble. He feels a sickening feeling in his stomach at the thought of Tyler getting high in their room before group.

“Nice to see you all here so early!” Josh’s eyes snap up to meet a pair of jovial blue ones. Roger claps his hands together with a cheerful smile and walks around the circle of chairs, taking a seat between two patients. “How is everyone’s morning going so far?” The counselor asks with a glance around the room. A few patients murmur a response but Roger just nods before continuing.

Josh watches out of the corner of his eye as Tyler slouches against his chair, briefly closing his eyes and sniffling. He reaches up and begins to scratch at his scalp, bitten nails scraping at the scabbed skin. His eyes remain closed, but the scratching becomes more vigorous. Ryan nudges Tyler with his elbow and Tyler’s eyes immediately snap open, he glares at the other boy but lowers his hand nonetheless. Josh furrows his brow when he sees Tyler begin to tear at his cuticles instead, biting and ripping at the raw skin around his nail beds. Josh can see blood welling up and drip down his fingers and all he wants to do is cross the room and press kisses to Tyler’s fingertips.  

“This isn’t our usual Sunday meeting, I know. Some of you are probably wondering what’s going on,” Josh glances back to the counselor, waiting for the older man to get to the point. “Today we will be saying our goodbye’s to Tyler.”

“What?” Josh doesn’t mean to actually say it outloud, especially not practically yell it out so that every pair of eyes in the room has turned to stare at him, but he can’t quite keep in the shock blanketing his nerves.

“Tyler is leaving us today.” Roger reiterates, a look of confusion momentarily crossing his face. Josh’s chest feels heavy with a sudden crushing pressure at the words that fall out of his counselor’s mouth. He can feel dilated brown eyes burning into him and he turns his gaze to meet Tyler’s. His heart pounds loudly in his ears and he notes the obvious unshed tears glistening in Tyler’s eyes.

“We’ll go around the room so you can all say your goodbye’s and send Ty off with some kind words.”

Josh doesn’t listen to what the other patient’s tell Tyler, he can’t. He can’t focus on a word that anyone else says, can only hear the rush of blood in his ears. He doesn’t know how to feel, doesn’t know if he’s overwhelmed with the anger of only finding out now, or if he’s overwhelmed with heart crushing sadness at the idea of never seeing his roommate again. He swallows a whimper at the reality of never seeing Tyler again, never feeling the press of his lips, or hearing his contagious laugh, never waking up to him again. Josh can feel the panic beginning to set in, his skin feels suffocating and all he wants to do is punch something repeatedly till his knuckles split and bleed.

When everyone in the circle to Josh’s right has gone and Roger informs him that it’s his turn, he freezes. Tyler is staring at him and it only makes his heart pound even harder in his chest. He shakes his head and takes a deep breath, “I’m happy for you.” His words are weak and barely audible, but the look on Tyler’s face tells Josh he heard him perfectly clear. Hayley, who sits to Josh’s left, begins to speak but Tyler’s eyes remain on Josh. Neither of them looks away, not even when a single tear rolls down Tyler’s flushed cheek. Josh feels like he’s hollow inside like someone has scooped out all the things that make him a human being.

He makes sure he’s the first person out of the room when Roger finally dismisses them after saving his little speech and well wishes for Tyler last.

*

It’s obviously a horrible idea to procrastinate packing until the hour before you’re due to leave, but Tyler is really just filled with horrible ideas anyway. He sighs deeply as he hastily empties his dresser drawers, shoving wrinkled clothes into the backpack he brought here with him so many months ago. Tyler thinks it feels like an entire lifetime ago, and in some ways, maybe it is a lifetime ago. He smiles forlornly when he fishes out an orange capsule hiding in the pocket of his jeans. He pops the capsule into his mouth and swallows thickly, grimacing at the feeling of the pill moving down his throat.

He drops his backpack when the door abruptly swings open, hard enough to bang loudly against the wall. He freezes momentarily when Josh stands in their doorway, crestfallen brown eyes roaming over Tyler’s figure, pausing at the backpack that lay at his feet. Josh inhales deeply and closes the door behind him before walking to his bed and collapsing on it, face down in his pillows.

Tyler bends down to scoop up his backpack and hesitantly resumes his packing, trying his best not to disturb Josh.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” The words are muffled when they leave Josh’s mouth but they cause Tyler’s heart to skip a beat nonetheless.

“Didn’t wanna believe it was happening.”

Josh rolls onto his side now, peering up at Tyler with an inquiring look. “You don’t wanna leave?”

Tyler hangs his head, staring at the carpet beneath his feet. He chews on his bottom lip anxiously, “don’t wanna leave you.”

Josh is up and crossing the room before he can actually comprehend his movements. He stops inches away from the other boy, close enough to feel the heat radiating off of him. He has to force himself to stay still with every fiber of his being, try his hardest not to pull Tyler into his arms, not to bury his face against Tyler’s chest, or kiss every inch of olive skin he can reach.

“I don’t want you to go either.” Josh’s words are barely above a whisper and he tries his best to speak clearly despite the tears stinging the corners of his eyes, threatening to fall.

“I’m so sorry for all the shit I said, Josh. I’m so stupid.” Tyler inches closer, enough so that their noses are almost touching, the warmth of Josh’s breath on Tyler’s skin.

“Stop, I don’t care. I don’t care about anything you said, none of it matters now. We’re both stupid.” Tyler feels hot tears rolling down his cheeks and he tries in vain to wipe them away. He lets out a broken laugh before leaning in and pressing his lips against Josh’s, relishing in the warmth that sparks in his chest. Josh wraps his arms around Tyler’s waist, kissing him back hungrily. His skin burns under Tyler’s touch and he needs more of it, always yearning for more.

They only pull apart from each other when a sharp knock comes from the other side of their door. “Joseph, it’s time to go!” Comes Anthony’s gruff voice. Josh feels like he’s been punched in the gut and his chest feels hollow all over again. Tears are still leaking out of Tyler’s dilated brown eyes and they leave wetness on Josh’s face when the other boy leans in to place short, sloppy kisses all over Josh’s face.

“Let’s go! They’re waiting to discharge you, Joseph!” Anthony continues to pound his fist against their door. Every loud knock feels like a punch to Josh’s chest.

“Josh,” Tyler locks bloodshot eyes with Josh’s, he places a warm palm against Josh’s cheek, forcing him to look at him. “Josh, I loved you.” He places another kiss to Josh’s lips, “I love you, Josh.” He punctuates this with another kiss, “I will always love you, Josh. I won’t let this be our goodbye.” He kisses Josh one last time before he picks up his backpack and pulls it on. Josh watches wordlessly as Tyler turns and heads to their door, pulling it open.

“I love you, Ty!” He calls out, his eyes never leaving Tyler’s. Tyler gives him a small smile before he walks out of the room and shuts the door behind him.

Tyler spends the entire drive home with his window down, the cool air washing over his skin. He keeps his eyes closed and thinks about pink hair, soft brown eyes, and warm smiles the whole way. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so late again! I suck, I know, I'm sorry. I hope you guys liked it though. Also I have a playlist on my phone of songs that have really inspired certain chapters or resonated with me in regards to these characters and their thoughts or their relationship. Would you guys be interested in like being able to listen to the playlist too? Like for this chapter, Josh has a song that really inspired how I thought he'd be feeling in this and Tyler has his own song too. I hope that makes sense. And of course, thank you guys for all the love in the comments and kudos!


	14. XIV

It takes three days for Tyler after he’s come home from NHH, to actually speak or interact with any of his family members. It’s on the third night that Tyler breaks his resolve (out of pure starvation and boredom) and joins his family at the dinner table without a word. His family barely registers that he’s taken a seat at the table, too engrossed in their prayer, heads bowed low over their full plates.

The silence in the room is palpable, only the scrape of silverware against dishes and the sound of chewing can be heard around the room. Tyler thinks no one is sure what to say to him, he wonders if they even really wanted him to come down from his room and finally eat with them at all. The appetite he’s finally worked up begins to ebb away with each tense minute that passes.

His mind is far too occupied with the thoughts of a cafeteria miles away, the food that might be served there tonight, a building that somehow felt so much more like a home to him than this one ever could, and a certain pink-haired patient who, in reality, is Tyler’s only actual home. His mind is so preoccupied that he doesn’t even hear the question his mother asks him, or the further prodding from his father until the snapping of fingers in front of his face gets his attention.

“Sorry...what did you say?” He asks, his tone dazed, eyes still unfocused.

“Your mother asked how you’re feeling? I bet you’re happy to be home after such a long time.” His father’s smile is forced, it’s the kind of smile Tyler is used to receiving at home. The smiles he’s seen directed at him the majority of his life. It makes his heart ache even more for those warm, loving smiles that make his intestines feel like they’re tied in knots that he was once on the receiving end of.

“Wouldn’t say _happy_ is the right word,” he mutters under his breath, glaring at the green beans on his plate.

His father blinks at him with a nonplussed look, dropping his fork onto his plate with a loud _clang_. He runs a hand over his face and shakes his head with a bemused laugh. “You’re never happy, are you? Listen, I get that you have to readjust.” He pauses for a moment with a thoughtful glance to his wife, patting her arm affectionately, “we get it. But we want you to know that everything is going to go back to normal now. You’re going to be joining us at the church on Sunday morning. On Monday, you’ll be going back to school.”

Tyler’s stomach churns at his father’s words, the idea of going back to his church or his high school - as if nothing has changed, as if he hasn’t changed - it’s too much for him to comprehend. He thinks about all the questions he’ll have to answer, all the glances people will sneak, and the whispering behind his back. He thinks about all the rumors that must have gone around his school and church about him, thinks about his “friends” and whether or not they even miss him.  He doesn’t want to deal with any of it, but he doesn’t dare tell his parents this. No, that won’t do. So Tyler just nods and hangs his head with disappointment and waits while his family finishes their meal in silence.

He practically scrambles up to his bedroom the second he possibly can, making sure to shut and lock his bedroom door. He leans against his door, eyes sliding shut and exhaling a deep sigh of gratitude for the solace. He slides down, crumpling to his knees against the beige carpet, smacking the palm of his hand against his forehead agitatedly. “I can’t go back…” he whispers to himself, swallowing hard against the lump growing in his throat.

 _“Everyone knows what a failure you are. They all know who you are now, Tyler. Fucking junkie trash.”_ The cruel voice sends a shiver down Tyler’s spine and makes his ears ring. He balls his hand up into a fist and starts to pound it against the side of his head, whimpering at every impact. _“The only thing you’ve ever been able to do right is get high.”_ The words echo in his mind, leaving him with the sudden burning desire to do just that. An abrupt tingling throughout his veins - begging, aching, pleading for that familiar warmth. He squeezes his eyes shut tightly, black spots dancing behind his eyelids. _“You know what to do, Tyler.”_

He hums loudly, trying his best to block out the voice scratching at the inside of his skull. Fist still pounding mercilessly into the side of his head, eyes still shut tight, he tries to think about anything else - anything to make it all stop. It’s that familiar shade of pink that flashes behind his eyelids and makes the storm in his head calm, even just for a second. He tries to focus all of his attention on remembering what Josh’s hands felt like in his own, how hard his heart would pound in his chest under Tyler’s trembling hands, the small sounds he would make when Tyler kissed him behind his ear. He tries to remember the way Josh’s eyes lit up when he told Tyler he played the drums and he went on for hours about his ideal drum kit, and Tyler listened with the biggest smile stretched across his face. He tries and he tries, but he fails.

 _“You said you were done with him! You said you were better off without each other! Now you’re just a liar like everyone else! You’re a lying fucking junkie!”_ Blurryface is loud, too loud. His voice is demanding, forcing Tyler to listen to words that are all venom. Words that force all the previous thoughts out of his head and leave Tyler with the image of him in his father’s car, window down and cold air washing over his skin.

“No, n-no, no! I’m n-not!” Tyler’s voice wavers, heavy with desperation, tears and snot mingling as he digs his nails into the scarred skin of his inner arm.

He had spent the majority of their drive home thinking about Josh and the probability of never seeing him again. Despite the overwhelming ache in his chest, Blurryface convinced him that he and Josh could never work out, that they were codependent and they were a sinking ship.

 _“He doesn’t love you. How could he? How could anyone? You’ll ruin him. Stop being so fucking selfish for once, Tyler. He doesn’t need you. Doesn’t even want you.”_ He had told him, over and over again. The harsh words were burnt into his memory, a constant repetition in his head.

Tyler could never allow himself to drag Josh down with him, couldn’t allow himself to continue to ruin Josh’s life, the way he knows he already has. So it was an obvious, however, incredibly painful decision not to try and contact Josh again, to let Josh move on with his life without Tyler. And Tyler spent the rest of the ride home and the three days after that fantasizing about his own death instead of his pink-haired roommate.

Eighty-three or so miles away, that same pink-haired boy spent the night laying in his roommate’s bed, nose buried deep in the pillows to inhale any remaining scent, eyes practically swollen shut, and cheeks stained with hours worth of tears. Just wondering when or how he would see his love again, hoping and praying it’s sooner rather than later.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What?! Another update in the same week?! I know, it's unheard of for me, but here we are. I had a day off and these ideas wouldn't leave my head. I know this is shorter than usual (at least it feels that way), but I felt like we needed an appropriate bridge between Tyler being released and adjusting to being home and what not. So this was my answer to that. We're approaching the end, frens!! I have this pseudo idea for an alternate ending so let me know how you guys would feel about that? I hope you've enjoyed it all thus far and as always, thank you a hundred thousand times for the support.


	15. XV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY, finally I'm updating. I know, I know, I'm so sorry. Before you guys read on, just a couple things. A trigger warning for some internalized homophobia and religious content. And Gustav Ahr is a real person, aka Lil Peep. Look him up if you want before you read on so you know what he looks like or whatever. Idk, enjoy!

Mind-numbing is the only way Tyler can really describe church. He remembers a time when he was younger, much younger and far more naive when he loved going to church; when he looked forward to Sunday mornings, sitting excitedly next to his mother in the pew, hanging on to every word that fell from their pastor’s lips. But that was a very long time ago, 17-year-old Tyler Joseph no longer sits beside his mother and listens carefully to the pastor’s every word. His head is too clouded with questions and anger toward their elusive God ( _ “Why did You make me like this!?” “Why won’t You help me?!” “Why aren’t You listening?!” _ ) to sit passively in the pew while their pastor reads proudly from an old book the entire room reveres as  _ holy _ . 

Tyler watches lackadaisically as everyone around him stands and claps enthusiastically, toothy grins stretching wide over their happy faces. He can feel his vision begin to glaze over as his eyes become unfocused and his thoughts take over, leaving him disconnected from the room full of cheering people around him. The roar of their cheering is dull in his ears and he’s left with the echoing sobs of a pre-teen version of himself, crying and pounding his fist against the side of his head. Voice raw from screaming, relentless begging and pleading, knees weak and stinging from rug burn from the hours he’d spent kneeling on them beside his bed. Tyler’s prayers as a child were wholesome, mostly giving thanks to God for all of his blessings, for Tyler’s family. It was when Tyler was in middle school that his prayers became more pressing; he would spend at least an hour every night apologizing to God for his thoughts and these urges he couldn’t control, he prayed for the strength he needed to always remind him it was a sin, not to ever give in to the temptation. He foolishly believed that God was only testing him, Tyler knew homosexuality was a sin and he would never allow himself to give in to the temptation.

It was only when Tyler got a little bit older that his thoughts became twisted and darker, when he looked in the mirror and instead of seeing his teenage self, he saw a different version of himself, one with gleaming red eyes and rotted black flesh covering his neck and hands, a wicked little smirk that continued to haunt him every day since. Tyler could resist temptation, but the torment was a different story. A hole had been ripped open inside his chest and no matter what he did or how much he prayed, it was always there, like a gaping black, hollow hole. He woke up every day wishing he had died in his sleep and he lived out all of his days fantasizing about his death, Blurryface scratching at the back of his skull. Tyler never understood what he had done to deserve the voices, the pain growing inside of him - he thought he was being punished but he never knew for what. He asked God every single night till his voice was hoarse and broken, but he never got an answer.

Tyler feels a gentle tap on his thigh and he shakes his head, trying to clear the painful memories away. Another tap and he’s turning his head to the right, locking eyes with bright clear blue ones. “You kinda zoned out, but church is over. Everyone’s leaving.” A shy smile, a soft laugh, and Tyler is watching as nimble fingers tuck a long blonde curl behind her ear.

He flashes a small smile and nods his head, “Thanks, Jenna.” He gets up, stretching his back and moves to walk past the blonde and catch up with his parents. He stops when he feels Jenna’s small hand wrap around his wrist. “Wait, Ty.” She averts her gaze to her shoes, avoiding Tyler’s questioning brown eyes. “I’m really happy you’re back. I... I was really worried about you, your parents told me you had a medical issue and you had to stay in the hospital for a while. I, um I asked them if I could you know, come and visit, but they said the doctor probably wouldn’t allow it.” She twirls a strand of blonde hair around her finger and gives Tyler a sad smile. “Anyway, I was just thinking maybe we could catch up and get some ice cream or something.”

The invite catches Tyler off guard and he spends a minute just staring at Jenna, letting his eyes roam over her petite figure. He thinks that if he were normal, the blue-eyed blonde standing in front of him would be a dream come true. He considers it for a moment, he’s already spent the majority of his life growing up with Jenna, what’s another 60 years or so?

“Tyler?” She runs her finger lightly over the back of his hand, and it’s only then that he realizes their hands have been linked the entire time. He abruptly feels like he’s been punched in the stomach at the thought of larger, calloused fingers running over his skin. He almost wants to laugh at the ridiculous thoughts he’d just been having, he’s not even straight and here he is contemplating marrying a girl he’s never even kissed, just to please his parents and a figurative God.

“Sorry, I’m just really tired. Think I’m just gonna go home, but maybe next time?” He pulls his hand away from hers, letting it fall at his side. She nods and leans in to give Tyler’s cheek a chaste kiss. “See you soon, I hope.” He watches as she turns on her heel and stalks out of the church, following the crowd of people as they file out.

He searches through the crowd of people, trying to catch a glimpse of his parents or one of his siblings but as the last person walks out and he still hasn’t seen them, he sighs deeply and pulls his phone out of his pocket.

_ Missed you guys leaving, walking home now see you soon. _

He types out the new message to his mom but pauses, hovering his finger over the send button. He thinks for a minute before hitting the backspace button and typing out a new message.

_ Getting ice cream with Jenna, be home later. _

He hits send and lets out a deep breath, his stomach twists nervously as he searches through his contacts till he gets to G. He moves his fingers quickly over the keyboard before he can think twice about it and back out. He hits send when he’s finished typing out the text and he reads the little gray bubble over and over.

_ Hey you home? _

He waits with baited breath until a little green bubble pops up on the screen.

_ Yea where u at??? _

_ Coming now _ , he sends back and pockets his phone. He sucks in another deep breath as he walks out of the shelter of the church and his feet take him down a familiar path. Lingering thoughts of calloused, warm hands and breathy laughs that turned into soft moans push their way into his head as he makes a left and watches the smooth cement turn into cracked sidewalks. He thinks of colorful tattoos and warm brown eyes as he stares at the vines creeping up the sides of buildings and broken homes. Thankfully, it isn't long before he’s standing in front of a small house with chipped paint and a broken screen door.

“Tyler fuckin’ Joseph!” And then a tall, pale, skinny boy with stringy blonde hair and scattered tattoos littering his bare chest stands in front of him and beckons him inside. He pulls Tyler inside the house and then pulls him into a bone-crushing hug, leaning down and kissing the top of Tyler’s head. Tyler can’t help but smile against the other boy’s chest, but he still fights his way out of his embrace with a laugh. “Gustav!” He yells as he swats at the other boy’s arms.

“I can’t believe they fuckin’ let you go!” He cheers, reaching for a half-empty bottle of Hennessy on the table beside him.

“Yeah, I can’t believe they did either.” He watches as the amber liquid sloshes around the bottle and pours into the other boy’s mouth.

“You look really good, man. So good to see you!” Tyler feels a spike of happiness deep in his gut at the bright smile the lanky boy gives him, eyes sparkling and white teeth shining.

“Good to see you too, G. Look at you,” Tyler moves forward to push a piece of hair out of Gustav’s face, gesturing to the tattoo on his forehead. “What’s with all the tattoos?” Tyler laughs lightheartedly.

“Just living up to all my expectations.” Gustav winks at him and picks up a pack of cigarettes off the table before plopping on the frayed couch, gesturing for Tyler to join him. He pulls a cigarette out of his pack and places it between his lips, lighting the end of it and inhaling deeply. “So tell me about it, how was it there? How was it being sober for that long?” He grimaces at the thought of it and exhales the smoke in Tyler’s face with a smirk.

Tyler snatches the cigarette out of Gustav’s mouth and takes a long drag from it, mulling over the question for a moment. “Food was pretty good. I still got Addies while I was in there…” he trails off, rolling the filter of the cigarette between his fingers. “And I fell in love,” he adds quietly, sucking in another drag of the cigarette and avoiding the other boy’s inquiring glance.

Gustav gives Tyler a pat on the back and hands him the bottle of Hennessy with a sorrowful look. Tyler can feel the tears building up behind his eyes start to fall down his cheeks as he wraps his lips around the bottle and lets the liquid fill his mouth. He swallows and tries to find comfort in the sting of it, but he only cries harder and leans against Gustav when the other boy wraps his arms around him and pulls him closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is a terrible excuse for a chapter esp after ya'll waited hella long. But I've been struggling with my own sobriety so writing for this was hard. Also I'm in love with Lil Peep so I had to have him in this too and I thought he was the perf fit for Tyler's friend/drug dealer. This is going to get a lot more graphic and depressing before it gets anywhere near better, but I hope you guys are still liking it. I love you alllll <3


	16. XVI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm baaaaack ;)

To say Tyler wakes up with a hangover on Monday morning would be the understatement of the year, he thinks. He grimaces at the pounding in his temples, nausea that swirls around his stomach as he attempts to crawl out of bed and into the shower. He flinches at the knock that comes from the other side of his door, half expecting to hear Lori’s demanding voice. Instead, it's just Zack checking to make sure he's up and getting ready for his first day back to high school.

He groans in response and saunters into the bathroom, locking the door behind him and turning the dials in the shower. He pulls off his clothes and watches the spray of water through groggy eyes. He slumps into the shower and closes his eyes as the cool stream cascades down pale, olive skin leaving goose bumps in its wake.

Running a hand through brunette locks, he keeps his eyes closed as he tries to remember what he and Gus talked about the previous night before all the alcohol became involved. He vaguely remembers telling him about Josh, and that sends a sharp pain through his chest that leaves him feeling hollow. He remembers Gus’ hazel eyes filled with pity while Tyler tried his very best to mask his pain with pathetic, broken laughter. The pungent aftertaste of the Hennessy still stains his throat which each hard swallow.

The rest of Tyler’s shower is spent in a daze, his thoughts wandering eighty-three miles away, always questioning what his pink-haired roommate was doing in that exact moment. Nausea spreading throughout his insides at the thought of someone else climbing into Josh’s bed with him. Tyler shakes his head vigorously as he shuts off the scorching hot water and steps out of the shower, noting the red marks decorating his skin from the hot water beating down on him.

*

Apprehension is all Tyler can feel building inside of him as his father parks their car in front of his old high school. Zach is already sliding the door of the minivan open and climbing out of the car, swinging his backpack over his shoulder. A monotonous look on his face as he stared at Tyler, waiting with an air of irritation for his older brother to exit the car. But Tyler is frozen in his seat, his throat tightening at the mere thought of walking in those hallways, all those eyes following him, all those whispers filling his ears.

“Tyler, I’m not giving you a choice here. You’re in your senior year and you already have plenty of work to catch up on.” His father’s voice is stern, leaving no room for Tyler to even attempt to reason with the man.

He anxiously wrings his hands together and climbs out of the van to stand next to his brother, clutching his backpack in clammy hands. His father flashes both boys a smile and a quick wave goodbye before he’s pulling away from the parking lot. Tyler watches the van make a right turn and disappear, his heart sinking at the realization that now he had no choice but to follow his brother inside. His stomach twists as Zack turns and begins stalking toward the building, Tyler following his footsteps. He keeps his head down, refuses to make eye contact with any of the other students. He can feel their eyes burning into him, can practically hear all their questions burning into his ears.

By the time Tyler and Zack make it into the main hallway of their school, Tyler is bordering on a full-blown panic attack and searching through blurred vision for the closest bathroom.

_“You couldn’t possibly have thought this was going to be easy, Tyler. All of these kids hated you before, what do you think they think of you now?”_

Tyler’s lungs burn as he tries desperately to suck in oxygen, his chest heaving. He stumbles across the tiled floor, stopping at the sink and trying to stop his hands from trembling long enough to turn the water on. He cups a shaking hand under the faucet and leans forward to splash cool water on his face.

_“They know who you are now, Tyler. They can all see you for what you really are.”_

Tyler shakes his head, silent pleas falling from his trembling lips. He closes his eyes tightly as tears begin to fall.

_“Look at me.”_

He shakes his head again, his pleas becoming more audible.

_“Look at me, Tyler! Look at me now!”_

“Stop! Just stop it! Leave me alone!” His voice comes out so broken that he can barely recognize it as his own. He keeps his eyes shut tightly still, refuses to look up at the mirror across from him. Tries his absolute hardest to block out the menacing voice pounding against his skull, hands tightening around the sink.

_“LOOK AT ME YOU PIECE OF SHIT! LOOK AT ME FUCKING NOW!”_

Tyler can no longer help it when his head snaps up and his eyes slowly open. Blurryface’s voice resonant in his head, bouncing off the walls of his skull and controlling his weakening body. Tears stream from his eyes, staining his flushed cheeks when he sees his reflection staring back at him. The same red, gleaming demonic eyes he knows so well staring back at him. He watches with baited breath as Blurryface holds up a syringe, twirling it between his fingers effortlessly. Tyler’s stomach churns at the sight, his heart sinking ever lower as Blurryface just smirks knowingly back at him.

He can feel panic and rage building up inside of him. Those crimson eyes boring into him, ripping his chest open and trying their hardest to control him. He screams and screams until his throat is raw, his hands balled up into fists so tight his nails dig into his palms leaving red-purple marks in their wake. As Blurryface’s smile grows, teeth starting to poke out from beneath his wicked lips, Tyler is all-consumed by fear and he does the only thing he can think: he lunges forward, smashing his fist repeatedly against the mirror. He can feel the slightest bit of satisfaction ebbing in as shards of glass clatter to the floor and hit the porcelain of the sink. Blood wells up and drip from the splits in his knuckles, trickling slowly down his fingers.

_“Do what you’re supposed to, Tyler.”_

These words are soft, calming, practically a whisper. They wash over his frayed nerves and serve as a reminder. He _is_ free. Finally free of that prison they called a rehab. He swallows harshly and pulls his phone out of his pocket, fingers fumbling to quickly pull up Gus’s number. He types out a quick text letting the other boy know that he’s coming over in a few minutes.

One last glance in the broken mirror and Tyler picks his backpack up, swinging it over his shoulder and marching out of the bathroom with as much dignity as he can muster.

 *

Tyler reaches Gus’s house in record time, his lungs stinging as he continues to heave in breaths but the panic slowly fading as his house comes into view. He barely makes it up the porch steps before he’s screaming out the other boy’s name.

“Gus! Where the fuck are you?” He yells out, running from room to room in search of a lanky blonde. He runs up the stairs leading to his best friend’s room and without knocking, pushes the door open with enough force for it to slam into the wall. He lets out a long sigh of relief when he finds the blonde sprawled out on an old mattress on the floor. Gus lets out a loud snore and Tyler can’t help but smile even meekly at that. He sits down beside his friend, pushing his body over slightly so he can fit on the mattress.

“I don’t know what the fuck you took, but man do I wish I could sleep like this.” Tyler shakes his head in disbelief at the snores coming from the blonde beside him. He contemplates waking him up, or letting the other boy sleep and using the time in between to try and calm himself down till Gus wakes up.

He lets his eyes roam over the other boy’s pale chest, his lips curling into a slight smile at the crude tattoos etched into his sternum and across his stomach. Tyler laughs lightly when he spots the pink panther on his best friend’s neck. He lets his gaze continue to wander, looking around the room at the clothes strewn all over the floor and the food wrappers. He freezes when his eyes lock on two orange bottles. Tyler can’t seem to tear his gaze off of them and he swallows hard, chewing on his bottom lip as curiosity gets the best of him.

He moves slowly, not wanting to wake Gus. He watches the blonde out of the corner of his eye as he leans forward grasping for the orange bottles on the bedside table. He takes a deep breath, wondering momentarily when he really allowed himself to get to this point before he pops the white cap off the first bottle. Peering inside he sees about 15 Xanax hidden inside the bottle and he can’t help the rush of disappointment leaking out of his core. He briefly questions whether or not he should look in the second bottle, but quickly makes up his mind when he sees a flash of green through the orange bottle. He swiftly takes the cap off and empties the contents into his hand.

Tyler feels like something inside of him is exploding with happiness, relief washing over him. In the palm of his hand sits four small, green pills. He can’t help the smile that finds its way onto his face as he rolls the pills around in his palm. He spares a glance at Gus, making sure he’s still asleep when he pops two of the 15mg Oxycodones into his mouth, pocketing the other two for later. He bites down on the pills, grimacing at the immediate bitter, medicinal taste and the chalkiness that coats his tongue. He tries hard to fight past the gagging and quickly chew and swallow the two pills.

He knows it won’t take long before he’s feeling the familiar euphoric warmth, the rush he missed _almost_ more than anything. There was always those brown eyes like honey and strong warm arms in the back of his head. He knows he’ll never miss anything more than that. But drugs are a pretty damn close second. He waits with baited breath, excitement filling every one of his limbs, twisting around his stomach.

_“Doesn’t it feel good, Tyler? To be right where you belong?”_

The voice is practically a purr, finally pleased with Tyler’s actions, no longer threatening. Tyler lowers his head and closes his eyes, slowly letting his body fall back against the mattress. He presses himself closer to Gus, letting the warmth from the blonde’s body soak into him. He smiles at his best friend’s sleeping form, giggling lightly as he can feel his pupils constrict. Tyler’s surroundings become brighter, sharper, far clearer. He can feel the rush building in his chest and he relishes in it, never wants to let this feeling go again. It spreads throughout his entire body, washing away every ache and bit of tense stiffness in his body, every muscle relaxing in its wake.

He leans forward, gently patting his hand against Gus’s cheek, “Hey, wake up.” He whispers in the blonde’s ear, shaking his shoulder slightly until the other boy lets out a faint groan.

“Gus, c’mon wake up, man.” Tyler tries again, louder this time, patting the boy’s face a little more forcefully.

Gus’s hazel eyes slowly open, he looks groggily at Tyler, confusion twisting his features. He furrows his brow and looks between their two bodies and then back up at Tyler, “Did we fuck?”

Tyler can’t help but laugh at that, and he does. He laughs carelessly for the first time in months. “God no, I think I’d rather cut off my own arm before I fuck you, man.”

Gus flashes him a glare but chuckles nonetheless. The blonde sits up slowly, yawning and stretching out his arms in front of him. “So when the fuck did you get here?”

Tyler smiles at his best friend, admiring the way his muscles jump and flex in his back and stomach as he arches his back. He’s hit with a wave of sadness when the image of taut muscle, colorful tattoos, and his fingernail marks etched into smooth skin of broad shoulders pour into his head. He can’t seem to see past them and he bites down on his lip, the overwhelming sadness pushing out any kind of euphoria he once felt.

“Ty? You good, man?” Gus’s voice cuts through the painful reverie and he nods, running a hand through his hair and scratching lightly at his scalp. “You didn’t answer my question, you fuck.” Gus stands up from the old mattress and looks around the floor of his bedroom, in search of any form of remotely clean clothing.

“Not long ago...Gus...please don’t be fucking pissed at me, I can buy you more.” Tyler glances up at the blonde, his nerves fraying. Gus looks back at him questioningly, waiting for Tyler to continue. “I took your 15’s. I’m fucking sorry, I saw them and y’know it’s been like 7 months-”

“Dude, shut the fuck up. You probably need ‘em more than I do right now anyway. I have more, it’s fine. And you can always get me back later.” He presses a reassuring hand on Tyler’s shoulder. “I’m serious, it’s fine bro.” He pulls Tyler up off of the mattress and pulls him into a hug, pressing his small frame against his.

Tyler exhales deeply against the pale, thin skin of Gus’s chest. He wraps his arms around the blonde’s bony frame and closes his eyes, letting the rush from the pills consume him again.

 *

It’s nearly midnight when Tyler finally looks at his phone. “Shit,” he mutters when he sees the amount of missed calls and text messages from his mom, dad, Zack, and even Jenna. He pulls lightly at the tips of his hair, frustration building while he reads each text message.

“What’s wrong?” Gus tilts his head inquiringly as he turns to pass a blunt to Tyler.

Tyler takes it in his hand and presses it to his lips, taking a deep inhale and nursing the smoke in his lungs. “Parents are freaking out because I never came home from school.” He exhales the smoke with each word and takes a shorter drag before passing it back to the blonde.

“What are you gonna tell ‘em?”

Tyler laughs a little, his mind completely blank except for that one faint voice telling him to just tell everyone to fuck off already. “Maybe I should just tell them to fuck off.”

Gus laughs hard at that, coughing mixed in from the thick smoke he had just inhaled. “Tell them you nodded out all day and forgot they existed.” He laughs even harder, his eyes slipping shut and he passes the blunt back to Tyler.

“Maybe I won’t tell them anything. Maybe I’ll just sneak back in and then...I don’t know, maybe leave before they can say anything to me tomorrow?” He knows this is a stupid plan, knows this won’t work. He knows that his parents might be scared he’s gone missing, overdosed and died somewhere. But Tyler is still caught up in the thick euphoria that has settled inside his head and chest, the happiness (no matter how artificial or temporary it may be) surrounding his heart, and how quiet and subdued for the first time in months, Blurryface has been.

So this plan is the only plan Tyler has and it’s the one he goes with. He stumbles back to his parent’s home, pupils still the size of a pencil point - a result of the numerous opiates he had consumed that day -, clothes reeking of weed and breath heavy with even more Hennessy. He tries his hardest not to make too much noise when he climbs in through his bedroom window.

But nothing, absolutely nothing could have prepared him for the look of absolute disappointment and disgust that contorted his brother’s features when he climbed in and fell against the carpeting of his room.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Zack’s voice was steady, dripping with disbelief at the sight of his brother on his hands and knees, pupils so unbelievably constricted, “Do you even fucking know what time it is? Do you fucking know that mom and dad and I spent the entire day searching _everyfuckingwhere_ for you when your homeroom teacher reported you absent? You couldn’t even make it through fucking homeroom, Tyler? Really? Are you that fucking low?”

Tyler’s chest felt like it might cave in at any second, his heart crushing beneath the weight of his brother’s words and the venom behind them. He could feel tears stinging the corners of his eyes, spilling more and more at every word that fell from Zack’s lips.

“Why did you even fucking bother coming home?”

Tyler dug his nails so deeply into his palms, he could feel the skin break and blood well up under his fingernails. “I never even fucking wanted to! I didn’t want to fucking come home!” He yelled back, as much anger as he can muster in every word.

“Why can’t you just be fucking normal, Ty? Huh? Why the fuck do I have to be stuck with you as my _brother_!” Tyler could swear Zack ripped his heart right out of his chest right then and there. He could feel bile crawling up his throat at the sight of tears streaming down Zack’s face.

“Then I’ll just fucking leave again. I’m sorry, Zack. I wish I could be normal for you.”

He didn’t allow Zack another word. He crawled back out of the window, twice as fast as he had come in. He didn’t know where to go, or what to do now, but he did know how to run and never look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here's the extremely long awaited chapter 16. My bad on disappearing you guys. I have had quite a fight with my own sobriety so this story kind of got put on the backburner for the time being. But I'm back! And I hope you guys liked this chapter and it makes up for the months I've been gone! I love you all and special thanks to those of you who were on my ass about updating. <3
> 
> This is going to get incredibly dark in the next two chapters. But I promise it's worth it.


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